


Act 1.5

by LoSzeged



Category: Hello Neighbor (Video Game)
Genre: Captivity, Conflict of Interests, Fights, Horror, Kidnapping, Locked In, Mental Instability, Minor Canonical Character(s), Murder, Problems, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-17 22:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoSzeged/pseuds/LoSzeged
Summary: Having been locked in the Peterson basement for some time now, the smell has faded from his notice.But the weirdness and problems didn't end.They just seemed to be getting worse.(An interpretation of events between Act1 and Act2, incorporating the game Secret Neighbour.)





	1. 1

Nicky takes a deep breath in, exhaling equally loud in exhaustion. The smell down here no longer even bothered him that much.  
"He forgot us, didn't he?"  
Maybe that was wishful thinking.  
"..."  
Nicky stirs from his seat against the wall, glancing over at the blue couch and flickering black and white television.  
"Aaron?"  
"....."  
He sits staring at the screen as an episode of Gunsmoke plays. Like he hadn't even heard the question.  
"Hh…"  
Nicky groans lightly, rolling his head back.  
In one way, good.  
If Mr Peterson doesn't come, there's no forcing.  
On the other hand, they didn't get food either.  
He'd usually kept to some kind of schedule, for that, albeit, vaguely. Not set in stone.  
But enough of one that Nicky knew he was running late if he planned on showing at all.  
("I don't know How you could, but…")  
"Does it seem weird to you?"  
He tries again.  
"....."  
"...Aaron.."  
Why is he being like this? Again all of a sudden?  
"What?" He finally leers back.  
"I've been asking you questions an-"  
Nicky pauses hearing the clink of something above. Turning into continual plinks echoing through the metal. Rain going through the collection pipes.  
"..mmhm…" Aaron shrugs, scanning the floor,  
Hesitant to look back at Nicky.  
He knew what had happened the other day, and it made no sense that Nicky seems to have forgotten.  
("I didn't think he was a good actor..")  
Nicky saw him look though, and could sort of guess by his expression.  
"You think he'd….Regret, maybe--?"  
"I don't wanna talk about it if that's okay with you."  
Aaron answers simply, turning his head back the other way.  
"Hmm…"  
Just seemed weird that that would 'happen', and now Mr Peterson doesn't show. Tf?  
"...."  
They both sit for awhile, watching the program that flickers once or twice.  
"Come to think of it, it has been pretty quiet upstairs today too…"  
"...." Now Aaron does consider it at least a little.  
A knot getting stuck in his throat as his mind put together a picture of what could be why.  
They could be REALLY stuck down here.  
(What if dad killed himself..)  
As much as Aaron resented him for the things he'd become and done. The thought still crushes him to picture.  
"....Aaron? ….Aaron!"  
"Aaagh!"  
He lets out a startled yell as Nicky had gotten up concerned; "You okay?"  
"I…."  
He shakes his head.  
("I just don't get it… How could he still be so normal?.... I should be the one asking Him that…")  
But he doesn't dare.  
Maybe Nicky was coping only through forgetting and not focusing on what happened or their situation.

\----------

"I'm gonna get some water."  
Nicky sighs, getting back up and collecting an empty juice can from the floor. "You want some too?"  
"Mmhm…"  
Aaron shrugs, so he picks up a second can.  
Now which way to--- Again?  
….Down this hall.. Left, past the pole wires and stuff, down this hall, left door-- into the room with the big fences and mini house. Go left around, furthest door. Then uh…  
Stepping into the hallway, Nicky pulls open the first door on his left, peering inside the pitch black with his flashlight, a striped wall greeting him he mumbles, realising the door and continuing down the hall to the last door, into the room of barrels, he saw the pipes and 3 doors.  
Left again.  
It was a mess in here. Like everywhere really, but the rusty sink and bathtub did work.  
So many of these doors and pathways still remained locked. Only MrPeterson could open them.  
Maybe if there was something to pick the locks…  
But.. Even then, Nicky wasn't sure he wanted to know every depth of this house anymore.

\--------

"Nicky! --- NICKY!!"  
Aaron screamed, pounding his hands into the metal bars that gated him away.  
"RUN!"  
Shaking between the insistent cries of his friend and the towering form of Mr Peterson, analysing him as he felt frozen to the floor.  
Maybe the impact-- The shock of being thrown and hitting the floor did it--  
"RUN!!"  
Aaron screams,  
Something kicked against the wide green eyes that stared endlessly through him, and Nicky began scrambling for his feet, to Aaron's horror as he's being stalked like prey. Ready to be struck.  
As Nicky stumbles into a run MrPeterson is already on him, slowly chasing at first, he'd catch up.  
Aaron lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut as they disappeared into the dark maze.  
There's no way he'll outrun him in there.  
And who knows what--  
Gripping the bars till his palms burned and his arms shake, Aaron braces for the scream.  
Torn between wanting to hear, and not wanting to be at all.  
\-----  
"Ugh…"  
He shivers at the memory, so recent. Trying to shove it out of mind before Nicky returns.  
(If he was good. Why shouldn't I be? -----  
But we're not really 'Good.' Not 'Really'.)  
"Hhhh…."  
Aaron collapses back on the couch, slumping into the crook of the arm and cushion. Staring at the black mass of the ceiling ahead.  
Virtually ignoring Nicky's return and offer of water.  
"..."  
(" What IS going on…? What'll happen to us?")  
He grabs the tv remote and presses the volume down, until no sound whatsoever came from it.  
Just the eerie silence of their creaky basement, and the clutter of raindrops in the metal pipes.  
They sat there for what seemed like minutes.  
Listening and waiting, for nothing.  
He wasn't there.  
Not a footstep or bang in hours.  
It wasn't like the old man to leave for this long.  
Maybe he really did die.  
And they were permanently trapped down here.  
He'd always been kind of clumsy to begin with…  
"...? Wait…"  
Nicky turns his head, "...You hear that?"  
"..."  
Aaron gets up after him, going to the nearest wall to press his ear against it.  
Patter of… Steps.  
Multiple of them.  
Like a whole group of them.  
"...."  
"Maybe it's the cops." Nicky perks up hopeful, "and we'll get out, somebody phoned them."  
Aaron didn't seem so sure.  
Following the trail of footsteps vaguely along the wall to not lose them completely.  
"...hmmm…."  
They didn't quite sound like adults…  
Weird…  
As the minutes went by, it was hard to stay hopeful, a creak of metal and noise didn't make it easier.  
"..It could be..More kids."  
Aaron hated the idea, but by the movements…  
"Nah.." Nicky shakes his head. Internally hoping he wasn't right. It Had to be the police.  
The group of steps seemed to have split into smaller groups. Making it even harder to keep track of.  
Straining and listening intently,they kept waiting, for someone to try the door and break it down.  
If it was the police surely they'd do that.  
Nickys face drains of colour as the muffling of a scream cut out.  
"...Kids."  
Aaron growls.  
"Freakin Kids." He turns to Nicky's stunned face as running steps pick up again. "Who'd you Tell?"  
"Huh?"  
"You told Somebody, Who was it??"  
"I...They didn't believe me."  
"Who??"  
"Trinity, Enzo and--"  
Realisation slowly dawns on Nicky, as he can barely say the last name. "Maritza.."  
Aaron's eyes were wide with anger and frustration "Rrgh!" Punching his fist into the wall.  
"They can't just Stay Away??"  
Nicky winces, why would they come? They realise they were wrong? But why'd they have to come….  
"Maybe...They'll get out."  
"Tch." Aaron scoffs at the idea "Sure."  
It was a whole mess. That just kept getting worse…  
Shaking his head he hits the wall again.  
There was nothing they could even do…  
\----  
("I never thought it'd get this bad..")  
\----  
"Why are you all so STUPID?"  
Aaron hisses, startling Nicky as he turns to him with a menacing glower.  
"Whuh-?"  
"I TOLD You not to come back, and you did. Now THEIR HERE too?!?"  
Nicky steps backwards warily as Aaron swung his arms.  
"Why can't you just leave us ALONE??"  
"hk-"  
His fist grazing Nicky's chin as he stumbles back  
"I'm so Tired of it!"  
Falling back to the floor he couldn't take his eyes off him as Aaron screams in frustration,  
Becoming aware of his rapidly beating heart and audible breaths, he realised he was afraid of Aaron too. Like he'd been going to keep beating him. Because he'd seen him fight his dad before.  
("What am I thinking of course he--")  
It was too late for Nicky to hide his fear, Aaron had already seen it. His stomach wrenching with disgust at himself he was gone before Nicky could finish calling his name. Running into the darkness of the hallways again.  
"Hhhh…."  
Shakily getting to his feet, Nicky had practically forgotten what was going on upstairs. He was too shaken to even picture what horrible things were going on he couldn't see.  
The only thing he could see, was it was a madhouse.

\---------

Choking back tears, face stuffed into his knees,  
Aaron dares not raise his head and show him he'd been crying. Even though it meant he couldn't see him either. He could feel his presence. His eyes fixated on him in silence.  
Was he frustrated? That he wasn't at ease? Despite all his attempts?  
" *Snf..* "  
"...."  
His father's voice was cautious. Equally purposed, but distant.  
"Noone can know what happened."  
Aaron squeezes his arms tighter around his legs as Theodore sits at his level.  
"They'd take you away. Forever. You understand?"  
He bristles at the touch on his arm. The unnatural feel of rubber gloves, squeezing his shoulder.  
"Aaron."  
"....."  
He didn't want to look him in the eyes.  
There's no way it could work.  
Not indefinitely, like this…  
"But…"  
"It's for your protection." Theodore insists, "Noone will know. I promise. You just have to trust me."  
…….Trust you. And your history of bad ideas…  
("He meant it. But…")  
\----  
Aaron shakes his head at the memory. Alone.  
("Why do all this…")  
He'd only gotten worse.  
He'd only GET worse. With all these kids that keep coming…  
Why don't they just stay away?  
Nobody ever cared before.  
Nobody ever liked us.  
What's the difference now?  
("This is all my fault…")  
The noise upstairs…  
("Dad..")

\---------

"Mrhn…"  
"What'd you do with them?"  
Maritza demands, bat gripped tight in her hands.  
It was the 4 of them left of the 6 that came.  
"Rowrh…"  
Looking over each of the children surrounding him, Mr Peterson held no answers for them.  
The bucktoothed girl with slingshot drawn.  
The red headed boy with tools lining his pockets and a makeshift gun aimed towards him.  
The timid lanky boy with the vase he'd grabbed off a table,  
And Maritza with her bat.  
Turning his gaze to each of them, and stopping at the pigtailed girl and the slingshot.  
Take her out and that'll be one less person shooting him with pellets.  
Maritza was losing patience, he doesn't want to answer? Fine.  
"Aaah-!"  
At her charge, Mr Peterson darted for the other girl as they all spread out, trying to keep way of his range, loosing items through the air in attempts to hit him.  
The girl screeched as the rough hands grabbed onto her collar and ripped her feet from the floor mid-run.  
"Argh!"  
"Ughn-"  
Maritza swung the bat into his side slowing him to a near stop, and backing away from his twisting swipe as another glass lobbed through the air and smashed over his shoulder. Losing grip of the wriggling girl, Maritza tightens to swing again as Mr Peterson came around, the freed girl wasting no time in shooting a rock into his back as he ran.  
The only one left without weapons flinching as he crossed the room, but it was the tool boy he wanted. Realising too late as Mr Petersons hands gripped him, spinning him around into the air, and knocking the gun from his hands, he kept running through to the other room, the thudding of the others footsteps following behind in a fling of rocks and boxes, attempting to knock him from his strangling hands.  
Slamming the boy into the wall as his struggles turned to nothing.  
"Agh…" Maritza ran over the furniture blocking their way, jumping off the obstacles put between them and grabbed for Peterson arms, wrapping hers around them, her feet dangling off the floor and swinging through the air as he jagged right,  
"Rrhn-!"  
Slamming her to the floor as he threw his arms down trying to lose her grip without losing the boy.  
The shock of the impact did it and before the others could get a good shot, Mr Peterson had shattered through the glass and disappeared into the dark outside.  
Looking between Maritza and the way he'd gone, they hesitated to keep chase or stay.  
"You go-"  
"Eh??"  
The boys already fear stricken eyes fell open further at the notion  
"Get-!"  
She insists, pushing him towards the window and rushing over to help/see if Maritza was okay.  
Shaking Enzo climbs out of the broken window to the cool outside. Which only made his shivering worse. Greeted by the big fence locking them in this place with the mad man.  
The grass rustles and crunched wetly under his feet.  
Glancing right towards the front, and left around the peeking corners of the house.  
His breath visible in front of him as he moved, there was no sign of Mr Peterson or the kid(s).  
Like he'd simply vanished.  
Heading down the side of the house, checking the pitch dark corners of the junk pile and barrels.  
Thick fog in the air misting his glasses, he frantically brushes them clear with his red sleeve.  
Eerily quiet now.  
Not a sound or sight.  
Where did such a creepy guy go?  
And- ("Is Maritza all right?")  
She got slammed pretty hard…  
He wasn't sure if it was the dampness of the air or his fear making him sweat.  
("He's probably gone… what am I even doing--")  
\--We're all gonna die.--  
At this point, that seems certain.  
"Egh--"  
Cringing to a stop as the rustling of grass ahead reached his ears, running towards him in the dark, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing for the end.  
"Hey hey--"  
"Wha-"  
"I found it."  
"Ai-" slowly uncringing, he looks to the broad faced boy with red hair. "You escaped?"  
"Come here. I'm sure of it."  
He insists, waving a hand and turning back the way he'd came.  
Uneasily he followed, how he got out of the Neighbours grip was beyond his brains working right now.  
Running down the length of the yard, the sight of the big shed comes into view.  
"Th--There?"  
The other boy leads him right to it, pulling the door open  
"A path to inside. Come on."  
"Really..?"  
It wouldn't be weird in this house, honestly, but…  
("Shouldn't we tell the girls first…?")  
His mind was spinning still, fear and panic had zapped him.  
"Where-?"  
Stepping into the big barn-like shed he looks around to rows of lockers angled shelves and...cages?  
"Uh…"  
Turning to ask just where he'd found this secret passage, his legs became limp. Standing in the boys place was a much larger, more frightening figure.  
He could barely let out a yell before the gloved hands lunge at him.  
Terror made him struggle, but it was no use. No use at all…


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basement Key

The two girls freeze.  
Keeping close together in the dark yard.  
They were very aware of the possibility it could be just them left.  
"You hear that?"  
Her voice, barely over a whisper asks,  
Maritzas mouth ajar, she didn't know what to think at this point.  
Floating like a caught record in the distance.  
A disturbing noise they couldn't quite place.  
Continuing forwards, as quietly as they could, it was coming from ahead.  
Then it stopped.  
What even was it?  
"......"  
Maritzas eyes stare at the closed doors of the shed. It was the only place it could've come from, wasn't it?  
Susie pulling her slingshot taut, they don't even look at each other, they both know.  
"We going, or…?"  
"....."  
Neither of them move. Staring hard the closed doors. Waiting for the sound to come again.  
But it doesn't.  
"..."  
Maritza creeps forward solo, arms still raised in swinging position. Just feet from the shed, she stills completely, hearing breathing.  
It was 'him', no doubt.  
Whether their friends were in there too, she couldn't tell.  
A long shaky inhale of breath pierced her ear.  
Shifting. Something dragging..? On the floors.  
For all she knew it could be one of their bodies.  
Or maybe they'd stabbed that creep with something.  
"Uhn...mmh…"  
Sounded like pain.  
("Or maybe that's what he wants you to think.")  
So we fall for the trap.  
It takes everything to turn away and deny the possibility they could be in there.  
"We need to look for keys."  
There was nothing else they could do.  
They had to make the time they had count, or it'll have been for nothing.  
Heading back down the way they came, halfway down the yard, a ragged growl vibrated through the quiet.  
Maritzas eyes wide, shoving the girl into the house "run"  
As the shed doors bang open and Mr Peterson lumbers out, his mouth a-gape and head turned to one side, his wide eyes land on Maritza, turning his hanging arms to a run as she made a break for the front of the house.  
She wasn't sure she could outrun him indefinitely, but when it came to point, she wouldn't go down without a fight.  
Hold him off so Susie could get the keys.  
We found 4 of them, it can't go to waste now.  
\----  
Panting up the lobby stairs the trailing footfalls crossed the entry behind her. She flings the door open, taking off down the hallway praying no gates fell in her face. Rounding the right stairs as he kept coming. He just kept coming.  
Secretly Maritza always wondered if Mr Peterson ate children's souls, but this wasn't how she wanted to find out.  
"Hh--egh!"  
Grabbing a chair she twists and threw it down the stairs for his face.  
Running to the nearest door and nearly into a beartrap on the other side, skipping over it and reshutting the door, she flew into the kitchen hall desperate for a place to hide.  
Table? Post? Wardrobe? Fridge??  
Cramming herself into a cupboard hoping it wasn't too predictable as the door flung open and the toothed metal snapped.  
Under other circumstances, she'd have a laugh at his clumsy step into pain.  
Right now, she doesn't dare move or make a peep. Hearing him grunting and prying the trap off his foot. Throwing the metal across the floor with a loud bang and clatter, walking into the room with a growl.  
She wasn't sure if his slowed pace was from the beartrap digging into his leg or if he knew she was in here. It should be the former. That's gotta hurt.  
"Nn…" his footsteps slow to less than a walking pace.  
Maritza held her breath as she could hear his from here. Or was it…  
"....snf….snf….."  
Barely moving now he stops.  
Turning his gaze around the spacey room, and then, to Maritzas wrenching gut he calls with a creaky voice,  
"Where aaaaaare yooouuuuu….."  
(*Mph!*)  
Putting a hand over her own mouth she curses her luck. How did he know? How did he Know?  
He breathes again. Taking a few steps, "nh?"  
("That, sound…")  
As she heard it again, he wasn't just breathing loud...She realises with a new horror.  
("He's smelling me out like a DOG.")  
Hearing the clink of a cabinet door, she knew without doubt that was it.  
("As if I needed Another reason to be disturbed.")  
And if he COULD smell her, she wasn't safe. At All here. It was a death sentence to wait it out.  
("Damn…")  
Closer the steps fall. Almost tauntingly, he's sniffing the air.  
("Now or never-!")  
Maritza bursts through the cupboard in a roll, grabbing a chair as Mr Peterson turns quickly and chucking it at him. Running and knocking plates and chairs behind her hoping it'll slow him a bit as she heads for the stairs, unknowingly the riskiest way to run, leading into a loft hall the creak of metal overhead sent her diving to the floor, skidding on her front under the gate that began to fall, scrambling back to her feet as the footsteps came, pulling open the door and scanning the small room quickly. Door ahead. Hole in floor. Hole in wall. Mr Peterson behind.  
Maritza throws open the door to the outside balcony and flung herself through the hole in the wall, clambering over the big cages that fill the room and stilling to stone against the shadows.  
"Mh?"  
("Please God..")  
She prays as it seems her attempt to fool him into outside fails. Footsteps right next to her ears.  
("Don't look in here---")  
"Hnh.."  
Passing, dropping down the hole through the floor, to her relief.  
Maritza turns herself around on the cage, stepping down, what were these rooms even for?

\---------

Across the house Susie rushes to the basement door, searching it's frame, and sticking the key into its matching yellow lock, turning the metal clasp openwith a loud creak.  
"Hh…"  
Taking one last glance over she heads off again quickly, into the library of books, and towards the stairs, "Maritza-!"  
She barely shouts over a whisper shocked to see her again, "Is he--?"  
"Think I lost him for now."  
She replies carefully, glancing over her shoulder up the stairs and moving towards the shadow of them and the bookshelves.  
"How many keys are left?"  
"One. Red."  
"Let's look together."  
"Right."  
She nods, turning to the near door.  
Their dual footsteps falling nearly in line with each other as they searched the dark hallways and overturned rooms.  
The rest of the house, silent as it gets.  
"Check the beds."  
Maritza advises as they enter in another kids room, sticking her hands into the sheets and mattress Susie jogs over to the other.  
She hadn't thought to check in weird places like that..  
"You find it?"  
Maritza pauses at the joining door, holding up a red key.  
They run back to the front entry quickly, yet something seemed...wrong.  
As Maritza inserted the key, and held the doors handle in her grip.  
Bracing to turn the final lock, and open its forbidden depths.  
An unease settling between them.  
"Maritza?"  
Why are you hesitating?  
Shouldn't we go before Mr Peterson comes back?  
The thought made her freeze, as an impossible realisation slowly grew, "you're... You're…"  
Stepping backwards, her fingers curling,  
Maritza turns to her with a wide grin, and wild green eyes. The laugh that escapes her lips wasn't Maritza at all.  
Turning into a run for the door as rapidly her friend vanished, she ran for the shut gate that towers over her head.  
"HEEEELLL---"  
The hands clasp her mouth tight, as the grip surrounds her from behind, pulling her backwards from the gate and towards the open house door. As everything fades to black.

\------------

When the noise from above finally settled.  
And the footsteps no longer traversed the halls.  
Neither Nicky nor Aaron could yet voice guesses as to just what happened up there.

\-------

Whistling to the emptiness of his home once more, Mr Peterson brushes his gloved hands together. Making last rounds, though he was sure that all children were now 'accounted' for.  
Finally.  
He didn't mind a game every once in awhile, it was even nice.  
But peace was Also quite nice.  
Stretching as he walks and surveys the damages left behind.  
("I'll fix up another time.")  
It wasn't going anywhere.  
"Mmh…."  
Pausing at the basement door and pile of locks laying at its base he puts a hand on his waist, turning his head.  
"5, out of 6, hn?"  
Not bad. They almost got it.  
"Hrh.."  
Picking the locks back up, Mr Peterson re-places each of them with a clack and a snap.  
All 6 of them.  
"Hmmm…."  
("I'll need to find better places for them..")  
Another time.  
Sliding the keys into pockets beneath his vest and around his waist for the time being.  
("Ah.")  
Should check the front gate just to be sure.  
Still locked. Good. Walls still unclimable.  
"Hmh."  
Turning back into the house and shutting the door, he was satisfied with these outcomes. Opening another door into his room and jumping into the bed, he sighs at the comfy embrace it offers.  
"Hhhhh….."  
After all that it was nice to relax.  
Drifting off to sleep within minutes, his eyes closed for mere seconds before jerking back awake.  
("Shit. Basement. Aaron. Nicky.")  
With a groan he gets back up and goes to leave again.


	3. 3

Neither of them say a thing at the sound of footsteps approaching down the basement hall.  
Mentally Nicky was asking Aaron just how much they should ask Mr Peterson about the commotion they'd heard upstairs.  
Not that he expected an answer.  
With growling the door creaks, then falls open, as Mr Peterson lumbers in with three platters.  
Flashing them a twisted smile as he sets the plates down.  
Leftover noodles mixed with spinach leaves and milk.  
("Blegh-")  
No matter how many times he brought it to eat, Nicky could not truely get over the vile mixture that was chinese food and milk.  
\------  
He waited for Aaron to try and say something.  
'what was that noise earlier?' or;  
'where have you been?'  
But he doesn't.  
They were both thinking it.  
Even Mr Peterson was completely silent.  
Usually he'd say Something at least.  
\-- The weight of that tension sort of just hung in the air until Nicky could no longer take it.  
Whether Aaron wanted him to ask or not he had to acknowledge it at the least.  
"I heard footsteps earlier."  
Aaron vaguely shifts his mouth as Mr Peterson seems to turn his head, ignoring the question/topic completely.  
"....um…"  
Nicky hesitantly stares at him unsure what else to do.  
Chewing the inside of his cheek lightly, Aaron increasingly felt stuck between a rock hard place and an awkward situation.  
Nicky waits until Mr Peterson finally raises his head, before trying the topic again.  
"What were they?"  
"Unh?"  
He grunts, staring at him intently now.  
Quietly Nicky repeated,  
"The footsteps…"  
He stares at him like he was trying to pry the thoughts right from his brain. That deep fixated stare. Passing by several moments making Nicky regret asking. Then Mr Petersons expression clicks. A sudden pop of realisation.  
"Ah. Yes. Yes, it was nothing."  
"..Nothing?"  
Aaron cringes silently between them.  
Mr Petersons green eyes seem to glint as they turn wide with insistence.  
"Nothing."  
A look that was much more threatening than it was 'assuring'.  
Aaron turns his head away from the voice. Praying Nicky doesn't keep questioning it.  
They Knew it wasn't nothing. But you don't just--  
He wasn't planning on asking anything else. He was scared to look away. It feels like breaking stare contact would give him whiplash.  
His eyes started to sting as he kept from blinking, and he could no longer properly breathe, let alone speak.  
Finally Mr Petersons glare lestens, shaking his head with a satisfactory hum.  
Nicky holds back a shiver as he watches him collect his finished dinner, absentmindedly fidgeting with the sticks.  
Aaron squeezes his eyes shut, putting his plate down before he accidentally ended up with the rest on the floor.  
"Mmm…."  
Still clicking and clinking the wooden sticks around the dish, Mr Peterson stares at the plate still with food on it, then raises his gaze to Aaron's face. He seems troubled.  
"Why? You don't want anymore?"  
He shakes his head no.  
"Mh."  
It seemed like that was the cue for him to just collect the dishes and go then.  
Not a bad thing to Nicky's current mindset.  
Can't hurt them if he's not there.  
But Aaron stops him, stifly grabbing his frayed pant leg, making him stumble and turn back around vaguely annoyed.  
"What happened earlier?"  
Aaron's voice asks, but his hands say something different. Making Mr Peterson shift slightly and roll his shoulder blades.  
"Mmh.."  
"..."  
Nickys turn to wait for an answer. Maybe he'd be more reciprocal to Aaron asking.  
Growling, Mr Peterson glances at him again shortly, and Nicky wonders if there was something he wouldn't tell him that he'd be fine to discuss with Aaron.  
Dropping the plates suddenly in a loud clatter, Nicky winces as Mr Peterson grabs Aaron's arm and leads him up. He didn't like it, but he didn't scream either. As Mr Peterson walks him off to Nicky's increasing debate of concern, getting to his own feet. He hesitates because he's not fighting him. Did he know him better, or….  
Too late to follow as he hears the way shut behind them. Leaving him to himself. His chest already so tight it could burst at a sudden notice.  
Bracing to hear screaming. To hear Aaron shouting about how they heard those footsteps and glass breaking and things banging. That he couldn't deny something was wrong, yet he barely heard a word…  
\------  
Aaron's gestures, however, weren't so quiet.  
As he did demand answers.  
No simple 'accident' could possibly have created that much noise.  
His knowing made Mr Peterson uncomfortable, but at the least, he tries to steer him away from 'concern', emphasizing clearly.  
•"Everything, is taken, CARE of."•  
"...."  
Aaron didn't even want to get into guessing just what that meant. Pressing further, he wanted him to at least Admit;  
•"but Someone DID break in."•  
•"Taken. Care. Of. "•  
Theodore insists, with both sign and voice.  
A warning he wouldn't have anything more to discuss, and that was it.  
"But dad…."  
("We can't just--- This isn't….")  
Aaron sighs, dropping his fists, exhausted of being constantly wracked emotionally.  
"Dad…"  
He didn't even have the energy to complain of the hand that fell on his head, patting through his hair. His eyes were to the floor, and that's when he really notices the stains on his pants. Frayed not only on the edges but through the shin too, pointing to it,  
•"You're hurt?"•  
As he bends down to get a 'concerned look', Mr Peterson stumbles backward quickly  
"No. No. Rh..m…"  
Lying about everything today.  
•"If you say so."•  
The thought crossed Aaron's mind. To try and take that advantage. That maybe… But…  
Nah… The gate, the keys...It's too risky… Even if they… Nah…  
Not yet… Not yet…

\---------

The Lucy Yi incident. Sudden deaths. Missing Children. Hushed residents.  
Just what was wrong with this town?  
"Rh…"  
Rising from bed, Jay brushes his tired eyes,  
"Lu?"  
She stood there, her back to him, staring out the window. Just staring, arms folded.  
He picks up the clock from the night stand and his glasses.  
•2:34 A.M•  
"What is it?"  
"...."  
When she doesn't answer his concern started to seriously rise, throwing off the covers.  
"Lu?"  
"I don't know Jay."  
She finally admits quietly, still staring at the Peterson's house and towering fence.  
"Something just... ISN'T right.."  
He sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder,  
"I know Lu, I know, I get it. But I talked to him already-"  
"What if he IS behind it?"  
She snaps back, unable to ignore the dread the sight of that fence brought.  
"Hmmh…"  
They'd been over this conversation before.  
He knew it was hard, trying to go on like nothing was missing, he knew, but, there was nothing to do in standing here at godly hours of the morning staring at that mans fence.  
Nicky had gone off grid. Under pressure and worry, the police determined he'd run off to avoid questioning. Or to find the Peterson kids.  
With a duffel bag missing from his room.  
He wasn't here or there.  
"What woke you up? Bad dreams?"  
"...." Luanne was reluctant to say, all this paranoia and worry wasn't really her thing.  
"...I thought I heard something."  
"..Oh."  
"Jay, I'm going to go outside, just to get some fresh air."  
"Now I don't think that's--"  
He stops himself mid-sentence, following along after her.  
Maybe it was the cool air outside, or the damp fog thickly blanketing the neighbourhood, but something did feel awfully creepy about this early morning…  
Maybe it was just their imaginations…  
Taking a deep breath, Jay folds his arms over his front, out of chill. Being out here in his pajamas.  
Glancing both ways down the dark street.  
It's dead quiet right now.  
A light flickering in a struggling attempt to stay on.  
Nobody would be up at this hour.  
They both flinch at the caw of a crow cracking the air.  
Jay sighs, that's nothing to be jumpy over, who knows, maybe it was one of them that she heard.  
Luanne stares hard at the gate across the street. Squinting her eyes slightly as the crow caws again from its yard.  
What Had Nicky seen in Mr Peterson that made him so… Crazy?  
They'd dismissed him and worried about his unhealthy obsession and behaviour, but… Was there something to it?  
She wasn't so convinced anymore that he were just a 'different' sort.  
She couldn't be if she was out here at nearly 3 in the morning.  
What did one man, who'd lost his family, need with such a fortress of a house?  
Why build all this?  
Like a machine possessed, he'd thrown it up so quickly.  
She had work today, yet somehow this seems more important.  
"Lu are we going inside? I don't see any monsters out here."  
Jay tries, the joke falling dead on her ears, she turns to him,  
"You're a Reporter Jay, Don't you think SOMETHING…"  
".... You're talking about him again aren't you?"  
"Well….YES."  
"It's nearly 3 in the morning Lu. Even HE'S probably in bed."  
"You're sure about that?"  
He'd worked hours on end building those additions.  
"Yeah-"  
A squeak. The low faint rumble and creak.  
Biting her lip, Luanne hesitates before going down the porch steps and crossing the yard.  
"Lu-"  
This whole situation was driving her crazy too.  
"What are you doing--??"  
Jays voice barely over a whisper as he awkwardly follows her out across the street in bare feet.  
The creaking rumble grew closer. Something on wheels… Like a cart? And heavy..  
She tries to see through the slats of wood, desperate to see just what on earth he WAS doing at this time in the morning.  
While it's against his own morals, Jay couldn't deny he was wondering too…  
Was that … A wheelbarrow?  
With…  
The crows loud caw overhead startles them, as it sounded, flapping it's wings and swooping off the top of the fence, cawing.  
("Are those---BODIES??")  
Luanne could barely feel her arms in horror of what it looked like she might have just glimpsed.  
"What in---"  
Jay hadn't seen what she'd seen, so it was to his shock when her panic turns to banging on the fence. "Hey---HEY!"  
"Lu what are you--"  
Jay grasps for her arms in disbelief.  
"Call the police! Get them here NOW!"  
"Wh-"  
All the noise she'd made it was suspicious Peterson seems to ignore it. Continuing after a pause, to push the wheelbarrow along.  
Luanne goes to the front gate, banging and shaking the locked boards.  
"Open this Door! What are you Doing in there!?"  
Her shouting and banging seemed to not phase Theodore much, certainly not the panicked response you'd expect from, well. Anyone.  
"Luanne-"  
Jay starts as she's in full fury mode,  
"Open this fucking door!"  
She kicks the gate hard and Jay grabs her back cautiously, praying she'd calm down before waking the entire neighbourhood.  
"Luanne, please, just--"  
They'd look out and see a crazy woman yelling and banging on a fence at 3 in the morning with her scared husband (him) in their pajamas.  
Now that he'd stopped, she didn't know what to yell anymore.  
The locks clicked, and the door creaks open slightly as Mr Peterson peeks out, a bit bewildered, but remarkably calm about the whole situation.  
"Hello?"  
She stares back at him mouth suddenly frozen. Hair sticking up all over the place.  
"Uh…" Jay didn't know what she'd seen to even warrant this reaction.  
".....Can I.. Help you?"  
Mr Peterson asks uncertainly, looking them over. Like THEY were the weird ones.  
Now that she's actually gotten his attention Luanne struggles to find way to place her horror.  
"The hell are you doing in there?"  
Is what blurts out.  
"...Nice night isn't it?"  
Mr Peterson replies, glancing to the sky, Completely ignoring her question and the fact they were in pajamas.  
"Uh-uhh…"  
This is exactly the other reason Jay hadn't wanted her to do this.  
Mr Peterson turns his head back to the Roth's outside his door as they stare with wide eyed panic. It takes a moment apparently for that to register in mind. And when it does, he seems to become cautiously concerned.  
"Something wrong?"  
"U-um...the…"  
How the hell do you ask about--  
Jay wanted desperately to call this off and head home as now he was looking at them like he thinks there's a problem.  
"No, uh…"  
Luanne straightens up, trying to clear her voice,  
"I thought I heard something strange outside, what are you doing?"  
Mr Peterson moves his lips, obliviously turning his head as if to think about it.  
"Mmm…."  
It all feels very wrong.  
"Don't know." He replies eventually. As if dropping the concern immediately after. Replaced again with a bright eyed casualness.  
"I was just taking them for a little walk."  
"Eh--a--a...Walk?"  
Luanne and Jay both stutter, Mr Peterson pulls the wheelbarrow into sight with a contextually unnerving grin, "mh?"  
Motioning to the mannequins sitting in the wheelbarrow, Luanne nearly faints.  
Mannequins. She'd thought they were BODIES.  
Jay has to keep her standing straight,  
"Uh... That's..Nice, Ted."  
He replies, forcing an awkward smile, as Mr Peterson stiffles a giggle.  
"They like to go out at night. So nobody stares at them." He adds as if they'd even asked.  
"You know how SOME people can be.."  
"Uh…"  
"Y-yeah, heh…"  
Jay slowly takes a step backwards, lightly tugging Luannes arm.  
"Well, that's okay, uh-- sorry for disturbing you."  
"...." He stares at them retreating backwards across the street and waves a hand.  
It took alot for them to refrain from running the rest of the way and into their house, locking the door behind them as if it'd bring them escape from that awkward and embarrassing interaction.  
\-----  
Luanne still couldn't believe her eyes.  
"What is---Mannequins? Jay? Mannequins??"  
He was standing with his back to the door trying to calm down.  
"I told you he was… You know--"  
Pointing to his head.  
"He's ABSOLUTELY Crazy."  
She agrees.  
"Lu-"  
"How else do you explain--"  
She checks the windows and twitches, mortified to see Mr Peterson actually wheeling the barrow of Mannequins out of his yard.  
She shuts the curtains immediately.  
"He's Mentally handicapped."  
Jay corrects, have some sensitivity.  
"He's Wheeling Mannequins Down the Street!"  
"---" well, true. But…  
"Hhh…." He sighs, " Can we Please leave it alone now?"  
She looks ready to lose it.  
"Just 'Leave it Alone!' Sure, Jay."  
She flings her arms up in the air exasperated.  
What else was there to do eh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation intended, but some delay is expected before posting.  
I want to make sure it's a good representation and solid read😅  
Hope you've enjoyed(?) It so far👍


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets worse.  
.  
.  
(Obligatory heads up of violent content)

"Uhn...hh.."  
Curling his body together, Nicky shivers, cold blanketing every inch of him. As he lay on the floor.  
"Hhh…."  
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, trying to shake away from the looming touch.  
\---  
Mr Petersons gloved hand curls over the front of his shirt. Practically all that was keeping him up, as Nicky's legs trembled so much they ached deeply. From running and falling, cold and fearing.  
"Hh...hhh.." He doesn't want to look up into the eyes staring at him in this dark room.  
"Rrmh…"  
Peterson growls, balling the cloth of Nicky's shirt so it pressed against his back, pulling him forwards in a jerking motion that sent his Chest into his fist.  
Trying to breathe as pain pricked in the spot, he could hear his own voice squeak as Mr Peterson threw him at the floor like a tossed ragdoll.  
Again.  
Landing on his left shoulder bad, he struggles to sit up with shaking arms.  
Just standing there, Mr Peterson watches him, extend a thin little arm.  
"Rrhn-..."  
Grabbing Nicky's shaking wrist, he jerks him back off the ground,  
Feeling like his shoulder snapped he yelps in pain.  
Carried around like a dirty bag of trash, Mr Peterson swings his body helplessly, the motions making him feel sick.  
"OW!"  
Face slamming to the wall, his arm folding behind him and pressing in painfully, Nicky could no longer hold back his mouth from screaming as it shot through his arm and neck. Pressuring him into the wall.  
It hurts. IT HURTS--  
"Aaagh! Aaow! Ughn.."  
The other gloved hand touching the bone of his hip, raking curled fingers down the outline of his skeleton figure. Making Nicky's leg jerk wildly.  
"STOP! PLEASE!! I'M SORRY--"  
He chokes back a cry hearing himself screaming, as Mr Peterson growls, with no intention to stop this.  
"Aaagh!"  
Pressing his twisted arm into his back ribs harder between the wall.  
Pain. More pain. And more.  
When is it gonna end? When won't it get worse?  
Whatever I did---  
\----  
"Ugh….ughhhnn..hh.."  
Shivering so violently he convulsed, Aaron puts his hands on Nicky's raised side.  
"Nick! NICK! Wake Up!"  
Shaking him only made him moan and gasp louder.  
Retracting his hands into near hysterics, Aaron gets to his feet.  
Why won't he get up?  
Is this a seizure? Is he having a seizure?  
His worst fear was Nicky dying down here.  
With him not able to do anything but watch helplessly.  
Not again. Not again.  
He couldn't handle that again.  
The only thing he could do is yell, and even that didn't startle Nicky awake.  
So he yells more. Kicking the furniture  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"  
\---------  
Drowzily Nicky opens his eyes to see Aaron screaming and swinging his arms wildly, throwing and smashing things all over the place.  
Still aching he struggles to push himself up.  
"A….aa.r…"  
"AAAAAAAAAHHHN! RAAAAAHH!!"  
"Aaron--!"  
"Nh--hh-!"  
His screams lower, fists still clenched, he snaps his head around, seeing Nicky sitting up staring at him with tired eyes. He quickly rubs his own, not wanting to see him with tears.  
"What is going on?"  
Nicky asks, too exhausted from his 'dream' for this kind of thing.  
"Nothing."  
Aaron growls, kicking the floor.  
"......eeyeah?"  
"Hrgh!"  
Rolling his head with a frustrated sigh Aaron reluctantly admits, "you were… Weirding out."  
"...ugh…"  
Neither of them want to talk about it anymore.  
Even though it hurt, and ached.  
Nicky didn't want to think about it.  
Memories we'ren't real if you didn't think of them.  
He just wanted it to be normal.  
Growing pains, or something.  
Slept wrong..  
Just normal things.  
It was the only way he could keep his mind.  
(That was it, I slept wrong.)  
Woke up drenched in sweat,  
(Bad dream. Just another nightmare.)  
Normal things.  
Dealable things.  
…………  
Maybe that's how Mr Peterson can continue on.  
So gallantly, like nothing happened at all.

\--------

Sitting in the office room, 16 surveillance screens blanketing the wall with feedback of the house.  
Between papers and pictures and maps, Mr Peterson draws up thoughts.  
Fidgeting with the wristband beneath his glove sleeve.  
"Hmm…..Hmm…..hmmmmmm……."  
Looking back to the maps, he taps a finger on the desk.  
"........."  
Internally calculating the risks and details.  
"Hnh…"  
Glancing back to the monochrome screens,  
"Mmm…."  
Squinting his eyes even closer.  
"Henh…."  
Grabbing the cameracorder from the desk and popping open the tape.  
Debating between the film and the maps before him.  
"Rrmm…."  
Drawing a circle around one of his notes and scratching an 'O1' next to it, before getting up with the tape and leaving the room.  
\-----  
Setting it up to the projector with a pair of scissors and fine tape roll ready, he presses play and watches.  
Presses pause and removes the film to make cuts, then plays it again. Over and over.  
\------  
"Nn--nnh--nn--rh…"  
Rocking back and forth Maritza hold onto the hope it would eventually loosen or break the ropes tied around her arms and legs.  
There'd still be the cage thing, but, at least it's one step.  
"Nngh...kh--"  
The door to the room opens, the cage locks clicks. She'd scream in hatred if not for the tape stuck over her mouth as gloved hands grab for her.  
Struggling violently against the grip that pulls her out into the air.  
Mr Petersons face was blank, as he carries her out of the room still bound.  
To the room he'd assembled the other kids.  
Who have no choice but to stay still on their seats. Sitting her down in an empty one, they all look at each other with frantic questioning.  
Unable to speak or move.  
As Mr Peterson makes his way to the front of the room where they could all see him.  
Squeezing his hands together and rolling them in a way that seems threatening from their position.  
He stops there a few moments just standing still.  
Like they were misbehaved students in a class and he was the teacher.  
\------  
"Hello. Children. Today I will talk to you about some things, very...Important."  
("Oh god..")  
Dread fills them deeper.  
His voice, slow and carefully measured. As if he was holding back some instinct to freak.  
"About, Manners. And about, Neighbours. And, why you SHOULDN'T, just break in to people's houses, and plan on assaulting them."  
"....."  
The way he put it, yeah, it sounds bad. But they knew he was deserving of having break-ins. At this point. He'd kidnapped a child, their friend.  
"To make this point clear. You won't be allowed to move, or speak."  
("...What is this? Detention?")  
It felt like it, the way he was talking. But the restraints gave torture vibes.  
("Just kill me now.")  
If he's gonna do it anyway, she'd rather he get it over with than have to listen to some long sermon.  
Maybe he planned on boring them to half death first.

\---------

"...Shall we see if you've been good listeners?"  
Mr Peterson asks, when he'd finished his list of manners, they apparently lacked.  
Approaching Enzo first, he rips the tape off his mouth, making him wince, but remain quiet.  
Mr Peterson waits, as if expecting he'll open his mouth to speak but he doesn't. Trembling, he keeps his lips shut.  
"Good. Good."  
Mr Peterson remarks flatly, turning to the other, red haired boy, ripping off his tape.  
It was only as he approached each of them, Maritza notices one girl missing.  
("What did he…?")  
"Mmn-"  
Trinity winces as he pulls hers next. She was very tempted to speak some not so polite words to his disgusting face, but holds back. Instead meeting his gaze with a deadly cold glare.  
"..hhn." vaguely amusing him, "ha." Turning to Maritza he steps, with a faint wry smile, removing the last mouth tape   
"What'd you do to Susie?"  
The others look at her with differing levels of disbelief, as Mr Peterson raises his head back. Mild disappointment replacing his expression.  
Though her nerves were full of warning fear of what might happen, she demands again when there's no response;  
"What'd you DO with her?"  
"Hhahhh….."  
Mr Peterson sighs, "Well.." Looking to the rest of the children, he clasps his hands together like a troubled old teacher lady wondering if the rest of the 'class' was going to dissolve into chaos from this one little deviant.  
"I have. One, last thing. To show you. Before we must answer, the question."  
("Question…?")  
They exchange suspicious glances and shift as Mr Peterson leaves Maritzas side and heads to the projector. Shakily she turns as much as she could with being tied and calls;  
"You didn't answer THAT question"  
Her bravado scaring Enzo particularly.  
They'd seen and experienced just what he could do with the right triggering. They were lucky enough to be still breathing at this point.  
Why push it?  
Even Trinity braces.  
Mr Peterson pays her no mind though. Poking at the projector and pressing play.  
The film whirs and beams a monochromatic image onto the screen before them.  
Immediately the sight makes them gasp  
"That's--"  
("No way…")  
Footage of them.  
Intruding into his yard unwelcomed. And entering the house.  
"You recognise it, yeah?"  
He asks, knowing they were sure to.  
Panic seeping deeper, as they thought of why he might be showing them it. Why he might have recorded it.  
("But this footage…")  
With increasing awareness as it showed them rummaging through the house and breaking open doors.  
("It's edited..")  
Trinity realises, there was no footage of when he was grabbing them or throwing them around. No incriminating evidence that he'd done anything to harm them. It was a film of them breaking into his house at the dead of night and overturning it.  
Which he could use in case someone Outside were to learn of this and ask questions.  
It's film for his defense.  
To make them look criminal.  
"Shit.."  
Maritza grits, shaking, they all were.  
"No…"  
No. They were SUNK.  
and that wasn't the worst of it either.  
"No. No. NO."  
A figure that looks like Maritza following after Susie draws her bat from her backpack, to the others horror, striking her across the head with it.  
"NO!!"  
Maritza screams, jerking in the ropes, as the picture shows her bringing the bat down again, over and over the girl on the floor.  
"NO!!"  
The camera spun quickly, the filmer turning to run, but it falls across the ground and ends on a dead cut of the wood boards.  
Staring in frozen horror at what they'd just witnessed, Maritza was struggling and screaming uncontrollably "I DIDN'T DO IT!!"  
"Then WHAT WAS THAT Mari!!? WHAT WAS THAT?!"  
Trinity shouts back terrified,  
"How could you---"  
"I DIDN'T!! I'D NEVER-!"  
"But that---"  
"HE SET US UP!!"  
who would believe though? Who would believe-?  
Mr Peterson takes a deep inhale of breath.  
"Truely. Tragic."  
"HE KILLED HER AND MADE IT LOOK LIKE ME!!"  
Nobody could validate it though.  
Noone knew but her.  
"You can't deny what it looks like though-"  
Trinity replies before she could stop herself.  
The realisation the footage was real and what it meant making her feel sick again.  
"...Now children."  
Mr Peterson speaks, stepping away from the projector, "This is the problem, you see? And you must answer the question."  
"Shut up!"  
Maritza snaps as he approaches her again, glaring him right in the eyes,  
"You Sick Sick Bastard."  
"Mari-!"  
"--It's a very important one."  
Mr Peterson continues, unacknowledging of her outbursts.  
"Do I tell the Police, that you kids broke into my home, and that Mari here killed a girl, Or----"  
"..."  
"Do I, let you 3 go- without a word. Promise to not speak of this?"  
"Rrh…"  
"Or do I keep you here, Because your silence, isn't Certain?"  
They gulp uneasily as he stares at them intently waiting for an answer.  
"....What will it be? Show of fingers. Option one. Two. Or three?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5/up delayed for a bit. (They are physically written, but not digitally)  
Thank you for reading, and I hope this horror story can be enjoyed🙏


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Option One, Two, or Three?

They didn't really have much choice.  
They needed that film-- To destroy it.  
The police had sat on Mr Peterson being suspicious and done nothing to consider him at blame for Aaron, Mya, and Nicky's disappearances.  
What were they going to offer in new evidence though that he was holding them captive?  
Mr Peterson had erased every trace of their stance against him, and held untold amounts of footage in his power for incriminating them as a pack of troublesome kids? And that painted Maritza a murderer.  
They were sunk DEEP.  
Titanic Deep.  
He'd thought this out way more than they'd calculated for a man with dumb, far off eyes everyone considers crazy.  
He had everything somehow in his favour.  
Maritza Knew she didn't do anything to Susie.  
But noone on earth was going to believe that Mr Peterson could've made himself look like her, and that it was him that had killed her.  
Noone would believe that.  
Noone.  
She didn't even believe it.  
"How…" Trinity starts warily, turning her dark eyes up to Mr Petersons waiting gaze.  
"How do you-- Want us to promise?"  
"..mh?"  
She looks between the boys on her right, and painfully to Maritza on her left. They had to agree not to tell anyone, didn't they? It was the only way they were gonna get out of here alive.  
No ifs or buts about it.  
"To keep this...All of this. Secret?"  
They didn't have to like it, there was no alternative.  
"...."  
Mr Petersons lips part slightly, with a chilling silence as they wait for an answer.  
".....I'm sorry…."  
He breathes, stepping closer, making Trinity pull back as he advances to her slowly, so close, her face now practically touches his shoulder.  
"What. Did you say?"  
She was scared to repeat it, honestly.  
Was that a mythical option?  
Did he not intend to offer them a chance out of this?  
Probably not. It was wishful thinking that he'd actually offered to spare them, mercifully.  
She doesn't dare speak again.  
He'd told them not to, hadn't he?  
His eyes rolling left to look at her when she refuses to move her lips.  
"Heh. Heh heh.. aha ha. Ha...ha…"  
"Trinity…"  
Maritza whispers as Mr Petersons dead, quiet laugh unnerves each of them, straightening back up from her, his head falls back in dizzying horrible laughter  
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA--"  
Laughter they'd seen before.  
On that night so long ago in the abandoned amusement park. Preceding and twisting with his mental breakdown. That they feared deeply now.  
Back then, they had plenty of space to run, and he'd still gone after them. Now there was nowhere to run, and no way to fight with tied arms and legs. Bearing witness to this unraveling that may be their last sight, as Mr Peterson sways unsteadily on his feet,  
"Hih hih hih…hih...hee hee-hee hee hahahaha…"  
Grinning widely with an unfocused look of pure insanity. That twists their stomachs as he hung forwards limply, staring at them.   
Enzo had never seen it. Neither had Aiden, but it was no less terrifiying as Mr Peterson grabs his head, digging his fingers into his own face so hard his skin changes colour.  
"Rrh--" raking them down he straightens uneasily, only to twist wildly in pain.  
"Rrh--aarhnnm--hh-"  
They had no choice but to watch with held breath.  
"Aarh--" Grabbing his head again he presses his palms into his temples, and suddenly his form freezes, his eyes fall back wide on the stares of the children sitting there watching in a state of shock.  
"E--eh….uh…"  
A sort of awkward unease creeps up on him.  
"Excuse me a minute."  
Mr Peterson stumbles forwards drunkenly on his feet and tight, hands still pressed in his head.  
Maritza turns her neck as much as she can in her seat as he disappears through the door.  
They all look at each other slowly, in differing levels of disgust, unease and terror.  
Even without the tape they couldn't find words to express their feelings of the situation.  
"He's freaking crazy."  
No shit.  
They had time to actually breath, with him gone from it though.  
"We have to get out of this."  
"M-Maritza…"  
Enzo's worry stricken eyes find hers across the dark room.  
"You didn't--- You didn't really…"  
"No."  
The fact she had to be asked hurt.  
"I didn't."  
"But then how did he do that?"  
"I don't know."  
"..We need to get that camera."  
Trinity says, struggling to get to her feet, the rope around her knees and ankles making it nearly impossible to get up.  
"How?"  
Maritza admitted, they were stuck, shifting a shoulder.  
"He's still out there--"  
Enzo reminds warily as they could hear him growling from somewhere.  
"Maybe you can untie me, Or--"  
"We gotta hurry."  
Who knows how long they had before Mr Peterson straightened himself and came back in.  
Maritza grits her focus, trying to work her tautly pulled hands around the ropes binding Trinity's.  
If only there was an easier way…  
"Mmh…"  
"Almost…..You got it- just pull right."  
"Hh.."  
The rope slightly loosens, then slacks as the knots come undone. Immediately Trinity drops them and bends down to undo the ones on her legs with faster speed.  
Camera.  
We need that tape destroyed.  
So he doesn't have 'evidence' to frame any of us, either.  
She quickly moves to the projector and climbs up to reach the tape still inserted to it.  
Hearing them gasp she snaps her head to the door, freezing as Mr Peterson stood there staring at her.  
"Ugh--"  
Before she could make a choice to grab the tape anyway, he lunges at her from across the room, grabbing her away from the projector and into the air she throws her feet, hanging.  
"Let Go of Trinity!"  
Maritza demands, cursing they'd only untied her and not them too.  
"Hhaaahhhh….."  
Mr Petersons grasp curls tight on her with a hard gaze  
"You just. Don't. Learn. Do you?"  
"Nngh-!"  
"Trinity!!"  
"Hhhhh…"  
Maritza fights her restraints and, squeezing her eyes shut, barrels her shoulder into Mr Peterson,  
Hoping he'd drop her so she could run at least, he jerks forward, and her feet touch the floor, before she can pull full out of his grasp Mr Peterson slams her back to the wall, both hands pressed into her shoulders as Maritza struggles on the floor.  
His back rising and falling heavily with his harsh breath.  
"You're REALLY. Making it Hard for me."  
He warns tightly.  
Trinity could only grimace under the force and horrible face in hers.  
"I WANT. to let you go."  
Mr Peterson admits strainingly, pressing into her so hard his arms twitch.  
"But it ISN'T. Easy. When you act. Like this."  
"I'm-- I'm sorry--"  
She doubted it was as simple as an apology but tries it anyway, just wanting the pain to stop.  
"Hhhh...nn…."  
Drawing breath through closed teeth, he sighs, not looking at her face, his pressure lightens slightly. She debates kicking him in the face. She was lined up perfectly to get a good shot to it.  
That'd seal her fate, wouldn't it?  
His deep breaths more controlled now. He seems to forget they were even there, and slowly slides Trinity down the wall until her feet touch the floor.  
Both hands just resting on her shoulders.  
Body stilling save for the rise and fall of his chest.  
As it held, Trinity fought back her instinct to kick his shin and run, now that it seemed easy to get away from his grip.  
Given she'd just barely been spared being strangled or thrown through the glass window she wasn't so quickly tempted to test the extremes of her luck.  
"...Go."  
"-Whuh-?"  
He turns and pushes her towards the room, not looking up from the floor.  
"GO. You're Killin me."  
" ….."  
Though free, Trinity backs away slowly, not taking her eyes off him, watching his stone posture twitch.  
"Wait by the gate. You know where it is."  
"..."  
"What?" The others exchange confused expressions as Trinity hesitantly continues backwards until she'd reached the door. Before turning to run down the hall.  
They hear her footsteps retreating and stay equally still in uncertainty.  
"Hhrh…"  
Rolling his body, Mr Peterson turns with a growl, lumbering towards the shivering boys, and undoing the rope around Enzo first. Then Aiden. He expected to still be harmed, but Mr Peterson just raises an arm for them to follow not meeting their cautious eyes.  
Warily they do, but Enzo stops midway,  
"Maritza--"  
She stares back at him from the floor, hard.  
As Mr Peterson turns at the door and pauses.  
"Leave her."  
"What?? But--"  
"Leave. Her. Here."  
He warns strictly, making Enzo shake.  
"I…" can't… how…  
"Listen to him hermano."  
"Maritza--!?"  
She didn't like it, but..  
"He's got the tape."  
They'd all seen it. What it looked like.  
She knew deep down what it meant.  
"But--" ("I can't just…")  
"Just go."  
She can barely insist without breaking,  
"This plans a bust anyway."  
"....manita..No.."  
"Get Out of Here-!"  
Her voice shakes trying to withhold her emotions and tears.  
"Before…"  
Enzo's face tightens hesitantly, barely, he turns himself for the door.  
("I can't..")  
"But…"  
Mr Peterson crosses the room, taking his arm, and pulling him forwards to his unravelling as tears started falling from his eyes.  
Before the other boy could get any wise ideas of attacking him, Mr Peterson grabs his wrist as well, leading them both down the hallway as Enzo sobs.  
Making Maritza smack her face to the floor and stay that way. Brimming with anger and soul crushing heartache.  
She knew it was the only way.  
As long as Theodore had that tape that seemed to show her, brutally, killing Susie. She couldn't go with them and be free.  
(He'd have us all arrested. For sure.)  
It wasn't right. It wasn't Right- at ALL.  
And yet it was their only choice besides death.  
\--Something Mr Peterson was sure to remind Enzo particularly.  
None of them could speak of what happened, and in turn, he wouldn't speak of it either.  
It was to be.  
"A secret, among neighbours. You MUST. Keep."  
They stare back at him silently for so long, he tilts he head lower.  
"You understand, our agreement?"  
Stifly, they nod.  
"You're sure?"  
They nod harder.  
"Yes-- we--We get it. Our secret."  
Trinity Stammers carefully.  
He still stares at them.  
And she wonders, suddenly, if he'd ever actually intended to let them go at all.  
Taking a deep breath, Mr Peterson straightens, and sighs, reluctantly taking out the gate keys and clicking open the locks.  
To their increasing nervous.  
They'd really agreed to not speak of this.  
To keep it all… A secret…  
When the neighbours ask what happened… What were they going to say?  
They couldn't say anything.  
There was nothing to support their reasoning--  
And everything to support His favour to incriminate them.  
The weight of this secret already began to show it's obesity.  
Mr Peterson pauses. His hand still holding the gate closed, he looks to them one last time.  
".... They're missing."  
"...What..?"  
Exhausted they return his look with confusion.  
"You went out to the woods. And something happened. They're missing. You'll report them. As missing."  
"...."  
They stare speechless at the words he so clearly instructed.  
"....."  
Before they even think of a response, the door creaks open.  
They're too frozen to move past his gaze, and when they don't, Mr Peterson notions with his other hand to the open gate.  
His expression speaking for him.  
'Well? Go. Leave.'  
Before I change my mind.


	6. 6

The 3 kids walk slowly down the street.  
It was probably either early in the morning, or late at night. It'd been at least a day that passed since they had commenced the raid.  
The weight of that attempt hanging over them.  
The only thing left to do was go home, but it sounded terrible. Who wanted to, after all that?  
"Huh?"  
Looking up they pause, seeing a yellow jacket coming up their way.  
"Omar.."  
"What happened?" The short boy asks, seriously concerned, "Did you get in? Did you--"  
"Where've you been?"  
Trinity interrupts slowly realising something.  
"Sorry, I...Slept in somehow. When I went to find You guys, you weren't here. I thought something.."  
"....."  
Seeing the look on her and the boys' faces, Omar steps back cautiously. Something HAD happened. Bad.  
"I thought Maritza and Susie were in too?"  
"....."  
Their first test- To see if they could lie, and keep the secret from their friend.

\--------------

"Raven Brooks P.D.?"  
The officer at the desks answers, "Right, I'll pass the results over to Officer Lawrence, if that's okay?"  
He picks up a pen and puts it to paper, writing down notes as the voice over the phone speaks.  
"Oh...Dang. huh…. Yeah, sorry. That's a shame. Thank you...Yeah, Goodbye."  
The phone clicks as he puts it back to the receiver and sighs.  
The station doors open, sitting him up again  
"Yea-?"  
He pauses, seeing the small group of kids there.  
"Oh."  
Well that's one good twist.  
"You kids alright?"  
He asks, shuffling the recent papers, "Trinity Bales and---"  
"We're here to report someone missing."  
"---"  
Given their parents had already phoned about the 5 of them, the officer looks at who wasn't with them. Taking a guess.  
"Susie Yong and Maritza Esposito?"  
Painfully, Trinity agrees.  
\-------  
They'd gone out into the woods too far, and lost whereabouts. We made it back but those 2…  
\-------  
That makes 5 kids missing from Raven Brooks.  
But at least it wasn't 7…  
\---------------

"Hh….hh-hh…."  
Maritza shakes, her face still to the wood floor.  
It ached. Everything.  
With regret.  
Regret that she'd not believed Nicky, and blamed him for Aaron and Mya's disappearance.  
That she'd been tricked by Mr Peterson, and hadn't believed her friend when he swore and insisted it wasn't him, and that he was being framed. Just as she was being threatened with now.  
Regret they'd come here.  
And fallen AGAIN for Theodores manipulation.  
How were they supposed to just GUESS he was a literal witch with the means to change into them?  
Like some absolute Nightmare.  
Everything they'd tried had failed.  
And still the police would do nothing.  
She prayed he really intended to release them.  
She couldn't bear the thought of what he might do otherwise.  
"Nicky.."  
So close, yet so far.  
Who knows if him, Aaron and Mya are even alive, considering what he did to Susie.  
This could've all been for nothing. What's to say he didn't kill them too?  
(Dad was right...Even more than he probably knew. This isn't something we kids could do alone…)  
She weeps harder at the realisation she might never see him again, that he wouldn't know where she went. And even if he did--- That he might be shown she was a murderer.  
Choking back her emotions as footsteps approach again.  
After how long of leaving her to the silence of this dark room, she'd thought it possible he could've forgot about her.  
Maritza didn't want him to hear her crying at the very least. She wanted to have Some dignity to hold over him.  
Mr Peterson pauses before slowly entering the room, one step after another, she stops breathing as he drew close, and then stood there. Staring at her, she couldn't see past his waist, but she knew.  
"What do you want?"  
She barely hisses over a whisper.  
Again, there's no answer.  
"Hmmh…."  
"What do you WANT?"  
She asks again louder, trying to hide her fear of his silence. Surely in all that time he'd been gone, he'd decided what he was gonna do?  
"...."  
Mr Peterson squats down, so she could at least see his face, his expression, so blank.  
"......."  
As if words were impossibly useless.

\----------

(We need to get outta here.)  
It'd been months. Longer for Aaron.  
The past few days, maybe a week because of. That. Mr Peterson had stayed away from them. Coming down only to bring food.  
Since the big break-in they'd heard the other day, it was barely at all.  
Who knows what he'd done to them.  
'taken care of' was extremely vague for a person not sane.  
\---  
"We need a plan."  
They'd been working on one a few weeks ago, when he was still bringing them up occasionally from the basement (when they 'behaved') but since he'd stopped that, and with what happened up there, there was no way of knowing if any of their set pieces were still untouched. Or even if the locks were the same. It wasn't just getting out of the high-security basement. It was everything above.  
"Maybe...The rides."  
Aaron slowly suggests,  
"Huh?"  
"You said a T.V. but, there's PROBABLY something we could get out of those machines."  
"...."  
Nicky shivers at the thought.  
Truth be told, he'd been glad to not have to see or be on any of those hellish 'amusement' rides Mr Peterson had built, recently. They weren't allowed to go into that section by themselves. And frankly, Nicky hadn't wanted to.  
But Aaron might have a point.  
"...."  
Shaking his memory of the dark place and forced rollercoaster rides, Nicky looks to him in wonder,  
"So how do we get in?"  
It was locked.  
"....."  
Searching for a solution they stare at the couch and floor.  
"We Break in."  
"How? And…"  
Do those...THINGS. Work automatically? Do they need to be turned on, or…  
"Hit it enough with something hard and it'll break."  
Aaron reasons.  
"Uh…"  
"We gotta try it, right? You in?"  
He was doing this more for Nicky than himself, there was no point if he didn't want to risk it.  
"....I guess."  
It was silent upstairs, so they had no idea if Mr Peterson was still there, or what he was doing. It was a reasonable chance to take.  
He might not even know we did anything, how would he know we broke in or were in there?  
...Right away, that is.  
\------  
Buckets in hand, they hammer away at the locks of the door, one of the only ones whose locks were accessed on their side.  
Metal banging against metal. They swung and swung.  
"Won't he hear this?"  
Nicky suddenly realised uneasily. Yeah, they were in the basement, but the sound of this would bounce through the floor, wouldn't it?  
"...Nah."  
Aaron replies, barely a pause in his actions.  
"You sure?"  
"...."  
Now Aaron does pause, he looks at Nicky on his right, it occurs to him that even after all this time, Nicky hadn't noticed what was different about his dad. He probably thought he was 'Just' weird. Like most people.  
"...."  
Turning back to the locks, he returns the question with another question.  
"We doing this or not?"  
"Y--Yeah ."  
-BAND BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG-  
Over and over until the locks finally give, and loosen enough to break off.  
The door opening inwards to the curving dark descent. Streaks of coloured paint lining the hallway, reflecting what light went into the dark.  
Swallowing uneasily, Nicky follows slightly behind Aaron. Trying not to get scared as they near the double footed entry.  
Each taking a side they push against the medieval styled doors, that were as heavy as they looked.  
"Oh…"  
Nickys fear hikes up again seeing the jagged outlines and colours. Twisting figures and machines.  
Freezing as he remembers being forced on the rides, blindfolded and strapped in. His eyes wide, all he sees are panic inducing memories.  
"Nick! NICK!" Aaron shouts, "Come on."  
"Oh. Right.."  
He didn't know where to start in terms of looking, so hoped Aaron knew where he was heading.  
\----  
There were games, ballpits, and climbing structures, but it was the mechanical, turning, moving, spinning rides Aaron wanted.  
They'd be the most likely to have something they could use as tools.  
It was so weird being here with everything quiet.  
No music or anything.  
Nicky wasn't sure it was better or worse though.  
(And what about…)  
Putting his hands on the panel for the warped merry go round Aaron starts trying to pry it off to get to the inside workings.  
Forcing his eyes away from the sights, Nicky crouches down beside him to try and help.  
Then they heard a click.  
Then a chilling, series, of clicks.  
Making Nicky freeze in terror.  
Only ONE thing could be making that horrible noise.  
Click click click click.  
"Ugh…"  
Aaron had stopped too, as Nicky looks around the underground 'park' warily for the source.  
ClackClickClickClick…  
Pulling Nicky's arm down Aaron harshly whispers, "What are you doing??"  
(If they See you--)  
CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK  
"Shit…" cursing under his breath, Aaron pulls Nicky as he got up, both of them knew what that meant. As the chorus of clacking grew Louder.  
Deafening in their ears, drowning any sound but,  
They run. Trying to keep behind the machines and walls as the mannequins roll after them with their spindly arms and insessant clicking.  
\---------  
"Nh?"  
Above ground, Mr Peterson twitches up straighter. To Maritzas uncertainty of the sudden shift in attentiveness.  
"Mnrh.."  
Growling he got to his feet, going to leave without a word to Maritzas wonder, hearing his quickening steps moving away.  
"What the…."  
\-----  
Briefly checking the vibrations of the wristband from his undercuff, the symbols 'B-P18' blinked on its screen. Confusion mixed with his intent to rush to it. Why would they be in there? It'd been locked?  
\------  
Running and running through the maze, the boys duck behind a counter stand, trying to catch their breath, as Nicky full out panics.  
"What are we gonna do?"  
Now?  
There's at least 6 of those 7 ft giants darting and rolling around the aisles looking for them.  
"I...I don't know."  
Aaron admits reluctantly, "I didn't think they'd run if he's not here."  
Guess he'd been wrong.  
This was Worse than when Mr Peterson Was here. Maybe they were set to guard if he wasn't?  
Who knows, it's possible.  
"Well…"  
Maybe they should just Run-run. Try to get out of here completely. What if the mannequins followed them though.  
Nicky squeaks in terror as the clicks grow closer again, loud in his ears, he broke out first into a run.  
"We should split up."  
Aaron suggests suddenly to his confusion.  
"Then they'll have to split too."  
It could make it easier to avoid them, long enough to make their way out of the situation.  
"I--I guess?"  
\----  
Running down the basement halls, Mr Peterson scans the walls with each turn along the way for any strangeness he might find.  
Raising and closing the gate behind him in case it were a trick, to bait him, continuing to run he reaches the joining door. Locks laying at the base on the floor.  
Slapping open the door as he headed through and past the heavier set, he stops, scanning the layout of the underground park until he sees a mannequin' rushing, and two, and three.  
"Nh."  
They must be chasing Them.  
Yes they were.  
As Nicky and Aaron continue to run desperately trying to evade the towering mannequins hellish clicking and plodding after them.  
A high whistle, calling twice pierces through the air of clatter, bringing the Mannequins to an immediate stop.  
Panting, Nicky slows his pace, hands to his knees as he tries to catch his breath, relieved at least it stopped. "Hhh…"  
It hadn't quite occurred to him why until he heard Mr Petersons voice.  
"Nicholas. Aaron."  
He trembles, knowing they'd been found out.  
Mr Peterson didn't sound angry. But he'd learned by now he didn't necessarily Need to 'sound' a particular level of anger for him to BE angry, and that just made it worse. Not knowing right away how much shit you were in.  
"Hhghh…" Groaning, he makes himself turn around. No use hiding and making it even worse.  
The boys hesitantly come out to face Mr Peterson who stood near the entry quite patiently.  
"......"  
Nicky's gaze falls periodically between him and the ground. Waiting for whatever was to come, as Mr Peterson stares at them. As if trying to piece together just what they'd done and were doing.  
Hands rested on his waist, he eventually tilts his head. "Ah."  
"..wh-what..?"  
Nicky tentatively asks, wary of the conclusions he might've come to.  
Aaron says nothing, not expecting a particularly wordy response.  
Mr Peterson nods slightly to himself.  
".....Good you like it."  
"Hunh-?"  
"I'm busy unfortunately, but I promise you'll get to play again soon."  
"...."  
Nicky stares with his mouth helplessly dropped open, was he legit-serious? Or badly mistaken of their intentions?  
He glances at Aaron for confirmation but he just seems… Depressed, all of a sudden.  
And he didn't know if THAT was an act or he really was depressed.  
"Hhhh…."  
As he sighs it seems like it could be genuine.  
\----------  
Though they didn't get the parts.  
(And instead got chased by mannequins) At the least, Mr Peterson let them off easy, under the assumption they'd broken in for- 'different' reasons.  
\----------  
Nicky and Aaron stand back as Mr Peterson figures out a new lock to replace the ones they'd broken.  
They had looked, to see if he left the gates open on his way down here, but they were closed.  
(Dang..)  
(How had he gotten here? Did he come down to check on us and then, see the door open? Or did he hear us breaking the locks?..... Aaron might've said he wouldn't-- but…)  
The boys exchange glances.  
(What now?)  
It's not like they could just get away with breaking into the 'park' room again.  
Guaranteed they wouldn't get off easily a second time.  
"Hmm…."  
Nicky turns his head at the sound, as Mr Peterson examines the door one last time before walking away from it.  
\----------  
They wait until he'd left. Closing the gates and reblocking the doors behind him, before they think of saying anything. Just staring at nothing in silence.  
".....A--Aaron?"  
Nicky turns his head to look at him, he was just so still and frozen.  
"..........."  
"...What do you.. Make of that?"  
It just seemed so weird how Mr Peterson reacted.  
Aaron's face winces slightly, not looking up from the floor, he shakes his head.  
"....."  
Balling his fist and taking a breathe of heavy emotion.  
"Hhhnh…."  
(He isn't well. He never had been 'all up there'. But it's just gotten worse…)  
And there was nothing to say about it.  
That would be worth saying.

\--------------

"......."  
Angrily, more than fearfully, Maritza waits, with no choice, on the floor of the room.  
It was exhausting just laying here tied. For what seems like hours. With nothing but pain and torture to look forward to (probably)  
He'd gone off and left her, but she didn't even try to guess to where or why.  
It was just… Infuriating. Unable to do anything.  
Then finally, she hears the footsteps beating, and a sigh, coming closer.  
She barely even flinches now. So full of rage, she didn't have any more patience for his silent staring.  
Before Maritza can even speak, Mr Peterson picks her up off the floor with a groan, turning around and dumping her onto a chair.  
"Mmh…" She growls back at him. Tired of these guessing games over what he was going to do.  
"Erm…"  
"What?"  
Maritza just asks, hoping to get it over with. She'd already accepted how low a chance she had to get out of this.  
"You got something to say? Or--"  
"Hishinn-nNhnnnh…"  
"...Excuse me?"  
Whatever/If that was supposed to be--- She realises Mr Peterson isn't even looking at her, but to his left, at nothing. Touching his face with wide eyes, he looks.. Scared. Somehow, that's More frightening. As she can barely make out what he says, voice quiet and murmuring.  
"Nnnn…..You jus…Came. nn…."  
"...."  
Maritza pulls her head slowly back into the cushion of the chair. Somehow more uneased by this than any interaction they'd had since…  
"What are you saying-?"  
It was a legitimate question he didn't plan to answer, yet it sounds as if it could be,  
'I did what I had to do.'  
"......"  
"No. No."  
He shakes his head slightly, the distrubing wry grin spreading back on his face mixed with fear.  
"I didn't."  
"....."  
"I didn't."  
Maritza could feel her chest tightening from holding her breath, but she dared not breathe and draw attention to the fact she was here.  
"Hh…."  
Mr Peterson just stares off at the wall now, as still and quiet as stone.  
She braces internally as he says, a little clearer.  
But no more comforting.  
"Nice when you were little. Sad when you didn't…"  
("..What??")  
As if hearing her mental question, Mr Peterson continues, pressing his hands together,  
"Mya was sad, she nnnrh had friends."  
Maritza twitches.  
(He's talking about when Lucy died.)  
It was after that, she'd stopped associating with Mya---(because of him)  
"Mya…."  
She looks up at him nervously to see him staring at her blankly. Tightening her nerve, she has to ask, now that he'd mentioned it…  
"Where is she? Do you know?"  
Was she dead? Because he killed her?  
Mr Peterson raises his head back, taking a deep breath, as he turns and starts to walks away, she realised it was stupid to expect any answer at this point.  
He sighs, pacing back around.  
Maritza bites her lip as it looks like he might do it for awhile, trying to hold himself back.  
".....She's……. She's in….nn….mm…... She's not here."  
"...."  
Maritzas turn to stare. Wondering if that was even the truth.  
"Hhrh…."  
Shaking his head, Mr Peterson paces the room faster.  
She doesn't dare question it again.  
"Hhh…."  
He swings around suddenly stopping like some dawning just popped into mind, "I think we all need to rest."  
Still wide eyed, the statement was bizarre, coming from him.  
"..'rest..?'"  
She repeats warily as he quickly stomps back over, half-slurring  
"That's a brilliant idea. Why didn't I think of it?"  
"What--?"  
Startling Maritza as he hurriedly grabs her and spun around for the door, seeming anything BUT restful.  
"Wait--What do you--"  
His expression, she glimpses. Was a horrifying frozen, mentally disturbed grin.  
His steps heavier on the wood than usual make thuds as he dangles her through the hallways, kicking open one of the doors and throwing her into the room, she lands shockingly on a bed.  
"GoodNight."  
Slamming the door behind him. Leaving Maritza in wide eyed stun.  
"..What. just happened."  
She hears him growling down the hall and a chorus of smashing objects likely swiped off a table, banging doors and retreating steps.  
"...."  
She had no more words. None at all.


	7. 7

At first, Maritza didn't know who's room she'd been thrown into. But seeing the dollhouse on the right… She got a fairly uncomforting guess.  
Turning her eyes down to the colourful rug. The children's drawings taped on the walls, handmade stuffed toys, and doll.  
"Mya's room…"  
Had to be. Or it was… Before.  
\---------  
In the Basement  
Nicky winces hearing the banging doors and stomping above.  
"UGHH-"  
Aaron audibly groans, rolling his head and collapsing on his back.  
They stare at the ceiling wondering when it would quiet down again.  
"Jeez…"  
\---------  
Eventually it did…  
But sleep often just brought more nightmares. Reoccurences of memories..

\----------

Maritza dreams of her brother going back home, and shaking, trying to explain to dad where he'd been, and answer questions like:  
'Where's Maritza?'  
Enzo was never a good liar.  
But he had to.  
("Don't tell him I'm here.")  
Mr Peterson had that tape, and that was the last thing she wanted getting out.  
If she had to stay here to prevent that, so be it. Maybe a chance would even arise where she could destroy it.  
She couldn't let her father see that, that fake tape showing her as a murderer.  
("I can't put that on him.")  
It was better this way than the alternative.

Mya… Was she really missing? Or had he…  
The image was too gruesome for her to conjure.  
\---------  
Hours passed before Mr Peterson came back.  
Honestly, she'd have been no more surprised if he hadn't. It seemed perfectly reasonable to expect he would just throw her in somewhere and forget she existed, but he didn't.  
Seeming calmer at least than when he left, but no less weird…  
"Mh...MH."  
Maritza maintains her scowl and closed mouth as Mr Peterson pokes her face with the bread. Assumably since her hands were still tied behind her back.  
"MH."  
He grunts insistently.  
Annoyed, Maritza reluctantly takes a bite, half-expecting it was poison.  
She'd never liked him at all. Ever since that day, 6 years ago, she'd never trusted him. There was no reason to. So in a way, she'd prefer if he didn't try and be 'nice' or 'act normal'. Because this Wasn't.  
Growling, he twists and picks up the juice can.  
Maritza pulls her head back as he shoves it towards her mouth, not caring that some of it spills on her front.  
The juice was actually tap water, when she drinks it anyway, hoping he'll stop and leave her alone.  
Since he doesn't say anything, she doesn't either.  
Mr Peterson gets up from the bed, putting his hands pensively to rest as he stares at her a few moments.  
…..  
Maritza casts him an ugly look, "What?"  
She'd done everything he wanted, so…  
He turns his head sideways, and perks an eyebrow, putting up a finger he turns and runs out of the room.  
She had no guess..  
\-----  
He was gone for about 2 minutes before appearing back in the room with a set of gloves and glue.  
Maritza looks at him incredulously fearful, as he nods his head like this idea was an excitingly good one.  
"What are you-- uh--"  
Nervously she starts to ask as he positions her closer, and feels him fussing around with her hands behind her back.  
He's pulling the gloves on-- but, for--- Why?  
Her tied legs instinctively jerking to get up and run from whatever it was.  
"Ungh…"  
To her surprise, the ropes binding her arms loosen. Turning her head, legitimately shocked he took them off.  
"Oh-"  
Until she realises she can't move her fingers.  
Her arms were freed, but her fingers were glued shut with super adhesive.  
She has no words. Just a twisted, disbelieving glare.  
("You….")  
(Did I really expect he'd just let me go…?)  
"NO!"  
Maritza screams when the realisation of why he'd untied her to begin with hit.  
As he grabs an extra pair of girls clothing and turns to her.  
Struggling to do something with her hands frozen and legs still tied she throws an arm he grabs from swinging.  
"Mmrhm."  
"I don't WANT Any new Clothes you Freakin Pervert!"  
He growls as if she was just being fussy, and holds her arm straight.  
"Stay STILL."  
"NO!"  
\----------  
Against her protests, he'd removed her clothes anyway, and stuck the new set on. Growling as he ties her struggling legs back together, giving enough space for small steps.  
She hated him more than ever now, swinging and fighting as he moves to just leave so simply,  
Taking her clothes with him Mr Peterson runs out of the room to her enraged screaming, blockading the door with his back.  
Legitimately flustered she'd make such a big deal out of it.  
Maritza screams at the closed door, frustrated even more with her slightly given back ability to move. It was a tease. She wanted it all back.  
\--------  
"Do you…"  
Vaguely Nicky could hear someone screaming, but at this point it was hard to tell if it were real or a memory.  
Aaron shakes his head. "Ignore it."  
"What?"  
It sounded cold, but---- what were they gonna do?  
\-----------  
Just in case,Mr Peterson places a chair against one of the doors, locking the other. She might get out of those. So a little assurance didn't hurt him.  
\-----------  
Leaving her to the room, he walks down the hallway to the front, holding the clothes up to his face to smell them.  
(She could've been thankful at least. Girls liked clothes, didn't they? These are dirty.)  
Inhaling deeply, he sighs, making note of that 'fiesty' response for future reference.

\-----------------

Trinity and her other friends might've said they'd gone missing… But Mr Esposito was hard pressed to believe that.  
The two girls most likely to NOT get lost in the forest were gone?  
Something seemed strange.  
When he heard the news, that Maritza and Susie had gone missing, Jay was quick to offer Miguel his condolences, but he didn't really want sympathy. Though he knew Jay was just channeling how it felt with losing Nicky.  
"Those kids are hiding something."  
"Why would they?"  
"I don't know.."  
But it was definitely suspicious.  
Glancing over the papers of the office, Miguel continues pensively,  
"I just can't believe Maritza would get 'Lost'."  
"..Accidents happen, Miguel.."  
"And that's not it. Susie Yong was a top scout in her group."  
"Hmm…."  
Miguel shakes his head.  
"I just don't know why they wouldn't talk."  
"....."  
To think about the alternatives and the facts, was unnerving, that's for sure, but they had to.  
This was the 5th case of a child going missing from Raven Brooks in a year.  
Something just didn't add up.  
"I know she felt bad about how she was treating your son before he ran off, but…"  
Jay shifts uncomfortably, he had points, but…  
No real lead.  
Aaron and Mya Peterson. Then Nicky. Now Maritza and Susie Yong.  
Months apart but, something was wrong.  
Hmm….  
\--------  
Things just hadn't been the same since it all started…  
\---------  
Miguel was holding off on printing up a story just yet. In a way, he had some right. It was his daughter, and his newspaper.  
So getting home early, Jay sighs a bit. Closing the car door with a clunk, and going to head in, but that's when he glimpsed a short boy in a yellow jacket peering into the slats of the fence around Petersons house.  
Hesitantly, Jay pulls his thought away from going in and tries calling over to the kid.  
"Hey-!"  
"--"  
Omar's eyes widen, snapping to attention at being found out, turning off the box he'd been using as a stool and running, to Jay's disbelief.  
"Where are you going? Hey-!"  
The kid didn't stop and disappears through the next yard before Jay could even get in a question.  
Sighing, his shoulders lower.  
What was With these Raven Brooks kids? They seem so… Adventurous.  
Not that that was 'weird' for a youngster, just..  
(What was he trying to look through Petersons fence for?)  
Jay didn't remember seeing him before either…  
Maybe he was new in town, and just curious?  
Hard to say….  
\----------  
Either way. With the amount of troublemakers that seem to be around… Maybe it was no wonder Theodore had locked himself up in that prison. Adults whispered and gossiped bad things about him behind his back. Nobody in town seemed to want much to do with him. The kids probably all thought with how 'weird' he was he was a great target for practicing their spy skills.  
Sure the man was different. But there were fair reasons behind it.  
Every time Jay had spoken to Theodore, he hadn't seemed like he was a bad guy. Just mishandled by everyone.  
That's why Jay sighs now.  
He knew it was probably nothing.  
But these kids… Maybe…  
"..I don't even know if he's up at this time of the day."  
It was a bit past noon, midday, and frankly, the only time he recalled seeing Theodore out at this time was when he was working non-stop on those renovations and building the fence.  
Crossing the street anyways, Jay looks over the entrance trying to make up his mind over whether to try it or not.  
A button hung up high, probably so that kids couldn't just run by pressing it randomly.  
Taking a breath and pulling himself together, Jay puts his finger to the button.  
Flinching when a loud horn sounded off like something off a train.  
"Uh…"  
He'd assumed the button was equivalent of a doorbell, but, that seems a bit much.  
………..Waiting a few moments before trying it again, the same loud train horn.  
"Heh.."  
It gives him a bit of a chuckle. The eccentric touch of it.  
When it started to seem like there was going to be no answer, Jay was about to debate between leaving the subject or trying again, before he notices through a small crack of the wood, Mr Peterson just standing at the front door.  
He didn't really get visitors. At all.  
"H-Hello!?" Jay tries, "Neighbour!?"  
"........."  
He stays absolutely still, staring at the fence.  
"...."  
Jay didn't really want to, seeing as he was right there, but presses the horn button again in case he hadn't heard him calling.  
With that third sounding, Mr Peterson lowers his gaze and approached the gate, opening it a quarter way. Vaguely surprised to see Mr Roth.  
"Unh?"  
"Hey, uh, Ted."  
"........"  
"...."  
Jay feels awkward about this now that they were actually standing before each other. Putting a hand behind his neck.  
"I didn't disturb you or anything, did I?"  
Closing his eyes in a forced blink, Mr Peterson glances between the ground and Jay.  
"Rrm…"  
"I saw a kid trying to look through the fence over there."  
Mr Roth points, hesitantly drawing Theodores attention to look at where/what he was pointing at, nothing there now but a box.  
"-nh?"  
Jay could tell he seems confused.  
"A kid about this tall."  
He adds,  
"Rh…"  
Mr Peterson straightens slightly, with a faint nod.  
"..........."  
"........."  
"......mhh…."  
After staring at each other for awhile, Jay wanted to sigh, but tries anyway,  
"You haven't seen two girls have you?"  
"....."  
Theodore turns his head pensively.  
Jay continues, "Maritza and Susie?"  
Straightening again, he appears puzzled  
"Rm...No. No I haven't. Why?"  
"Oh it's just…"  
Feeling kind of dumb for asking, Jay shakes his head with a shrug. "I don't know. Sorry for asking."  
Theodore was carefully suspicious, his gaze more focused now.  
"Something happen?"  
"...."  
Mr Roth glances down the street as if wondering if there was anyone else around to hear them,  
He leans in quietly,  
"They're missing."  
"Missing?"  
Theodore repeats in startled concern.  
"..."  
How anyone thought he was questionable was beyond Jay. At least he seemed to care about the fact people were missing.  
So many residents were indifferent, it was unbelievable. A 'not my problem/kids' attitude/response.  
"Yeah.." Jay sighs, "They went out into the woods with some friends and haven't made it back."  
Mr Peterson looks terrified.  
Shaking his head, Jay laments, "That makes 5 kids missing."  
Staring at him with wide eyes, legitimately frightened. "Terrible."  
"Isn't it?"  
He takes a step backwards as Mr Peterson finally comes out from the gate, not taking his eyes off him as he shuts it gently behind him. Leaning slowly towards Jay, who's arm tickles with an eerie chill as Theodores voice forms a measured whisper.  
"You'll think I'm crazy. Like everyone el...But.."  
Lowering to an unnerving pitch as he turns his head,  
"I think. The forest is haunted. So many Things, that happen there."  
Jay is as still as stone before he even realises it. Nervously clearing his throat to breathe, as he just agrees with him.  
"Yeah, you might be right. Ghosts is it?"  
Mr Petersons eyes are as wide as full circles. As if beaming his disturbance into him. He breathes.  
"FEAR."  
"What?"  
"Fear. Makes you Run. And SEE things.. That Aren't there."  
"....."  
While there was truth to his words, Jay was feeling a little 'fearful' himself.  
Theodore spreads his arms broadly, spinning quickly as if beholding something in the sky worth marvelling.  
"It's EERIE."  
"..."  
Jay looks for whatever he might be pointing to, but truthfully he doesn't see anything there.  
"Isn't it?"  
He twitches realising Theodore has turned his expectant eyes back to him.  
"Yes--Yes it is. Really."  
His agreeing, probably only enthused Mr Peterson that there were someone willing to listen.  
"The THING is large, and small. And everything at all. In darkness, in light. Whispers voices and screech. It's everywhere in sight. Yet nowhere I---"  
Jay waits, Theodores arm wrapped over his back, as if he'd continue on, he doesn't. His words just linger in the air as he stares acceptably at something.  
He had no idea what.  
Green eyes searching the air ahead like tracing butterflies flitting, all else is still.  
".....Ted?"  
Mr Roth tries unsurely, as the silence holds, glancing to him on his left.  
He stays there so long, yet he doesn't dare move and possibly startle him… Just what was he looking at..?  
"Mh--"  
Twitching suddenly, Mr Peterson seems to have forgotten he was holding Jay, or that he were there at all. Flusteredly taking a step back, and becoming wary.  
"Uh…"  
Jay wonders if he even remembers their conversation by the look of confusion on his face.  
"You alright?  
Theodore stares at him emptily, like he didn't even know him anymore. Backing away and to the gate door.  
Making Jay concerned. That didn't seem normal. In any context. Before he could say anything further, Mr Peterson whipped open the door and flung inside, slamming it behind him.  
Jay hears the quick rattle of locks that follow,  
Immediately sealing the door closed again.  
"......"  
He stares at the gate unsure what to make of it. Any of it, in all honesty...


	8. 8

Bright sun, Clean floors and Fresh smell..  
"Aah--"  
Nicky stretches as he leaves his bedroom, after a good night's sleep in his bed. It felt refreshing.  
Light clinking in the kitchen as the sweet breadlike smell mixed with frying butter.  
He heads down the stairs, unable to stop his cheeks from smiling for some reason. It just was just so… Nice, to be waking up.  
"Morning Narf!"  
Dad calls from the stove as mom mixes a pinkish liquid in a bottle and reads from her textbook.  
"Waffle you have?"  
"Is there apple jam?"  
"You bet!"  
Waffles and apple jam. Delicious.  
Nicky sits down at the table, so excited for them he was almost banging his hands on the table.  
It was always a good morning when Dad made breakfast, he loves sweets.  
"For you, and for you."  
Setting the plates down with a bow of his head.  
"It looks Great!"  
"I hope so!"  
"Nom-" The taste was Amazing, and warm.  
Nicky felt like this was heaven.  
Pleasant sunshine, dads pancakes and apple jam…  
"What about the squirrel from the other day?" Luanne asks, "You're not really going to write up an article on it?"  
"It's not everyday a squirrel tries to get into University!"  
Jay jokes, they laugh,  
"True, I guess."  
"Heh heh…"  
Between forks of pancakes, Luanne looks to Nicky, "You're doing okay with your homework?"  
"Yeah, it's not too hard."  
Shrugging slightly.  
"Thatta boy."  
\-------  
Finishing up breakfast, putting away the plates and cups for later to clean, Jay turns to Nicky,  
"So what are you doing today, Narf? Planning to discover a new hideout or something?"  
"Haha, yeah."  
For some reason he felt a little uneasy all of a sudden, although nothing had changed…  
"Well as long as you're careful."  
"....."  
("Seriously, why am I nervous?")  
"Right."  
"Heh heh."  
The hand on his head though gentle, didn't feel so comforting anymore. Like a weight had shifted.  
Suddenly the room seemed.. Darker. And less safe. More...Messy.  
("I'm sitting in a chair? But this isn't our table..? This isn't our kitchen..")  
The pleasant smell and bright morning sun through the window…  
Replaced by banging pots and growling.  
Nickys stomach turns empty, and the taste in his mouth dry and to nothing.  
As the smell of rotting fruit and scalding milk lingers through the air, and his body becomes stiff. Staring at the back of Mr Peterson as he grumbles over the counter, scraping a spoon in circles on the bottom of the frying pan full of milk.  
"Rrmh.."  
Hesitating between putting down the spoon or the pan as he goes to reach for an apple.  
(Unlike my dream, this felt weird. Very. Weird.)  
Mr Peterson smacks the apple against the counter with a cracking bang until it were practical mush. Dropping it in the pan and grabbing another.  
Nicky stares forwards, unable to move. His arms and feet felt detached from his body, like the whole thing was surreal. Slowly turning his eyes left to the side, he sees the image of the towering fence through the window. "Hhh…."  
Eyes forward, Mr Peterson is stirring whatever messed up concoction he has on the pan.  
Eyes right, falling on the door to the hall.  
Nicky wanted desperately to fling himself at that door and run out. But the gate, that darn gate.  
(Maybe I could...But the key...How…? He'll grab me and---)  
"Rrm.."  
*Clunk*  
Nicky jumps hearing the close bang of plates, and flinches, seeing Mr Peterson beside him.  
The deep plate set in front of him now sat with a mud of apple coated in milk white film.  
"Uh…"  
He looks between it and Mr Petersons waiting expression.  
"Th-Thank you?"  
"Rrrn.."  
He turns, leaving the kitchen, probably to get Aaron. Closing the door behind him, Nicky glances at the mush once before getting up quickly and going to the door, grabbing the handle, and stomping a foot, it was stiff.  
Slapping his hands over his mouth that escapes a cut squeak of frustration. Stilling completely as he strains to hear. The footsteps, thankfully, don't turn around.  
Time to see just how real it was.  
Nicky glances down the hallway to his right, and steps down it towards the bathroom door. Reaching for the handle.  
Also locked.  
\--- Ever since that time they ran through there, broke a window, and tried to escape. It'd been kept locked. He could easily remember running the lengths of the yard trying to lose Mr Petersons pursuit. Ducking into the space beneath the bed, and running wide-eyed through the house that seemed so different from what he knew.  
Nicky shivers.  
Turning away from the locked door(s) and going back to his seat at the table.  
No use in getting caught standing and grabbed around.  
Glancing at the deep plate of mush.  
It doesn't look appetising to say the least.  
"....."  
Hearing Aaron's scratchy protests, he sighs, looking to the door again.  
("Come on, Aaron..")  
They need to get SOMETHING done. And going along with this 'pretend family' stuff was their only chance. He knew he didn't like it, neither did he, but..  
(How else are we ever going to get free?)  
Mr Peterson opens the door to the kitchen, half-dragging Aaron into it behind him.  
Nicky tries to meet his brown eyes as he's pulled over to the seat beside him and into it, but Aaron avoids looking ahead, or at him, with a displeased frown, folding his arms with a 'hmph'.  
With a different grunt, Mr Peterson expects them to eat.  
To Nicky's uncertainty as he picks up the spoon, staring at the mushy white and vaguely brown clump on the plate in front of him. "Uh…"  
Green eyes staring at him in observance as he carefully presses his spoon into it to take a piece.  
Mr Peterson sits across from them, at first just watching them.  
Aaron moving more slowly than Nicky in taking a first bite. The latter of which who tries to refrain from looking disgusted by the taste. He'd had alot of practice from his mom's cooking, to at least fake the notion it was fine.  
Which seems good enough for Mr Peterson.  
"Hmmh…"  
Satisfied they were eating, he grabs his own plate, to Nicky's tentative observation, he doesn't hesitate to shovel a spoonful into his mouth.  
He'd been hoping to maybe see a taste of the grossness or confusion on Mr Petersons face, but it seems like he was immune to his own 'cooking'.  
Too bad..  
Finishing it quickly and practically pouring the rest down his throat.  
Nicky stares shook, with the spoon still in his hand, as Mr Peterson bangs the table with his fist, setting the plate down loudly.  
Nickys hand trembles a bit as it felt like a passive taunt to their slowness.  
Aaron grumbles something under his breath before taking another bite.  
\-------  
(It's not home. But Mr Peterson wanted me to think so.)  
\---------

"You know…"  
Aaron had said one night in the basement, staring at the flashing t.v. light reflecting on the ceiling.  
"..If you would've been here longer, you probably wouldn't be in this."  
"Hm?"  
It was really vague of him to just…  
Nicky turns his head to look at him.  
"What do you mean?"  
"........"  
He seems uncomfortable, fidgeting with his hands.  
"....I dunno."  
"..Come on, Aaron, what'd you mean?"  
".....You didn't know us long enough. If you did--- You wouldn't've come trying to find me. Noone would."  
"..Not true."  
"Hhh…"  
Aaron turns on his side, away from Nicky. "...."  
Shaking his head in silence, just shaking his head. "....................."  
Until he couldn't hold it in anymore,  
"Is true. Noone wanted anything to do with us. And if you'd been here longer, you would've been the same. You wouldn't've considered me a friend. And you wouldn't be here."  
"....How do you know?"  
Nicky tentatively replies, kind of angry he'd just imply that. "I already knew…"  
"You didn't know Anything Nick!"  
Aaron interrupts not hearing it.  
"You didn't--- You don't."  
"........."  
Nicky stares at him from across the room quietly now. Refusing to look at him, Aaron wouldn't meet his eyes. While spouting this nonsense.  
Now probably wasn't a good time for his snark, but seriously.  
"Yeah? Bet."  
(What don't I know? I stayed when I met your terrifiying dad. I stayed when I saw your family had troubles. I stayed when I learned that girl that died in an accident died because of one of your dad's dangerous inventions. I read all up about the incident by myself when you wouldn't tell me. That he'd designed the park, and that the town burned it down after Lucy's death. I stayed even when I noticed everyone else in town avoid you, and how other kids seemed scared. I stayed even though ENZO wanted to drop ME because I was Friends with you. When everyone else moved on, I wanted to find you. Not like this. But I wanted to find you.)  
All those words he couldn't say now.  
Just what was missing?  
That he 'didn't know' that would make all of that insignificant?  
"What don't I know?"  
By now?  
"........"  
He waits for Aaron to give an answer.  
If he was gonna say something like that, he might as well follow through.  
("I'm ready.")  
(I can handle it.)  
What else could it be?  
"........."  
But Aaron doesn't look at him. He sits staring at the ground, with sad, dead eyes.  
"That…"  
"......"  
"....mmh-"  
He shakes his head, now turning his gaze across the room.  
"You gotta regret coming here."  
"I don't."  
"Lie."  
"I Don't." Nicky insists, "We'll get out of this someday, right? Together."  
"........"  
Aaron's quiet for a long time again, staring back at the floor, he puts his arms around his knees.  
("...I don't deserve you as a friend.")  
(Why is he like this? Why doesn't he hate me? He should--)  
It was so weird.  
"Maybe." He forces himself to say eventually, "If…"  
His voice and eyes drift before he can finish the thought.  
"..." Nicky shrugs a bit, getting up to collect boxes. It seemed like he wasn't going to talk anymore, and he needed a distraction, to do something.  
Stacking and placing the boxes together, to form a structure, Nicky can't help but wonder still…  
"So...About what I don't know.."  
He glances back to Aaron briefly, "Would it help any if I did?"  
"........."  
He turns pensively, "You mean to escape?"  
"...um. Sure."  
"....."  
"We need a new plan, right?"  
"Right…"  
Aaron agrees quietly, lowering his head in thought, and slowly getting up, seeing Nicky trying to be stimulatingly productive kind of compelled him to do it too.  
There were two of them, and one of him. So…  
"The thing is…"  
"....What-?" (The thing is what?)  
"...I don't know whether I should tell you."  
Aaron admits, moving a box.  
"Come On." Nicky practically sighs.  
(Really?) It can't be THAT bad. You know, in terms of… (I don't think I can BE surprised anymore.)  
"Hmh." Aaron almost smirks at his impatience. "About, Dad…"  
"He's crazy, whoa." (Yeah, I knew.)  
New he seems less amused by his tone.  
"He Was a genius."  
"......"  
Nicky turns his head, warily, noting he twisted a nerve. "...'Was'...?"  
"Sorta..But he's...Um…"  
Biting his lip lightly, Nicky wonders what made him so hesitant to say whatever he meant to say? Why would he care about exposing his dad's secrets?  
(Does he think I'll TELL Mr Peterson about it or what?)  
"...What I mean is…"  
"...." He stares with more intensity, not intentionally, but the wait was killing him.  
"....You should be okay-- To run behind him."  
"-eh?"  
Confusion struck Nicky like a flying newspaper just smacked him in the face. out of nowhere.   
"He won't hear you if you do."  
"..What?"  
Not only did that seem unlikely. It was hard to believe, was this really what he didn't want to tell him?  
"But he's got good eyes."  
"...uh...Earth to Aaron?" Nicky tries, feeling like he was ignoring his confusion. "What do you mean?"  
He looks at him with equal skepticism,  
"What do YOU mean 'what do you mean'?"  
How hard was that to comprehend?  
"-I dunno."  
"Hhh…."  
Aaron sighs, going to scower the basement for more boxes, putting his hands over his ears as Nicky follows him bewildered.  
"What don't I get?"  
Aaron sighs again, wishing he'd never even mentioned it now.  
"Just… Don't be scared to make a little noise."  
Glancing around the halls as they walk, Aaron reiterates straightly.  
"If he doesn't see you. Just run."  
"...So…"  
"I don't mean knock a whole bookshelf onto the floor next to him but, you get the point. Don't just freeze up scared because YOU think you made a noise."  
Nickys brows furrow, leaning forward to see his face, "Why? That's…"  
Aaron looks at him blankly, so blankly, it must've been a stupid question to ask.  
So Nicky tries to just retract his awkward moment and pretend he knew exactly what Aaron was talking about. Like it should have been an obvious conclusion he should've come to already.  
"Oh. Wow. Can't believe I didn't notice before."  
(Just play it cool)  
"Mrh.."  
Aaron doesn't seem impressed though, and turns his head away from him. Shaking it. "Whatever."  
" :/ "


	9. 9

Clearing his throat after they'd finished eating, Mr Peterson gets up, Nicky follows, as Aaron just furrows his brows.  
"Mh?"  
\------  
("I can probably get you… Maybe. 5 Minutes."  
Aaron had said.  
"5 minutes?"  
That wasn't very long.  
"He's gonna notice. After that you're probably on your own.")  
\--------  
Nicky slowly takes a step right, as Mr Peterson questions Aaron's muddled, groggy behaviour, tottering to the side as he went to get up.  
Somehow, Nicky was amazed to think that, despite all this, he really does care if something seemed this off.  
("Do I…")  
With Mr Petersons attention to Aaron, he hesitates. Recalling what he'd told him.  
\------  
("You should be okay to run behind him. If he doesn't see you, just run. He won't hear it if you do.")  
\-----  
Is he SURE?  
\----  
"Umgh…"  
Aaron puts a hand to his head, closing his eyes as he stumbles backwards, nearly dropping the plate in his other hand, raising Mr Petersons hesitant concern.  
\------  
("Don't just freeze up scared because YOU think you made a noise. Just run.")  
\-----  
Willing his muscles to move, Nicky darts for the kitchen door, quickly opening it and jumping as it made a clunk behind him, turning his legs into hyper run as he hears Aaron fall against the floor in the kitchen and plate clatter. Nothing chasing him. Though his foot falls sounded panic inducingly loud to him as he ripped through the house, snatching a book off the shelf and rushing through the front door. Climbing up the rackett siding.  
("I only have so much time..")  
As he reached the first roof over the entry, His legs were weak with terror at defying Mr Peterson and what he might do to him for it if/when they got caught. Throwing himself onto the trellis, cutting himself short of yelling as his leg slips and nearly sends him falling through the slats.  
Practically flinging himself forwards and crawling onto the roof, outside the room filled with water.  
His brain shouting at him 'What Are You Doing?!' as he forces his arm to lift the book he'd grabbed and smash it against the window. Cringing deeply as he batted out a hole big enough to fit through and squeeze himself inside, straight into the water. Splashing his arms around to pull himself all the way in through the jagged hole of the glass scratching his skin and keep his head above drowning, he eyed the shovel sitting in the middle of the pool, just as he stops gasping for breath, and went to run for it, Nicky spotted the other thing jutting out from the water. A….a...Sharkfin…  
Screaming and flailing his limbs harder he wanted nothing but to forget the shovel and get out of here---the door on the left end--  
"NAAAAAAAAAGHHH!"  
His heart sunk deeper in his chest as Aaron let out a ragged yell. That's the bad signal.  
Mr Peterson had noticed what was going on, and from here, Nicky could hear him running, banging open the doors below. As if he needed another thing to bring him terror right now.  
Splashing and gasping towards the door, he grasps the knob and shrieks loud.  
Stabbing pain shooting into his hand and wrist he barely registers from what as he flung the door open, other than that it was ridiculously heavy, he couldn't breathe, it hurt immensely, his brain was spinning, he might be bleeding but he couldn't tell from being soaked all the way through.  
Nicky ran down the hallway for the stairs wobbling so much his body slipped and crashed into the steps, falling down the rest of them.  
"Gah---hhh--hah...hhh...hh…"  
Pain. Just Everywhere. Pain.  
Nicky lays on the floor gasping for breath, the searing pain in his wrist burning with such intensity his visions darkening, his ears plugged with water as his heart pounds in his chest , he tries to make out if that were footsteps thudding through the house or his heart.  
"Ugh--hh…"  
He couldn't even move to get up.  
Thoughts screaming,  
("MOVE! MOVE!!")  
"hh---"  
He couldn't even see the room in front of him anymore, the last thing he registered was the thump against his head. Before darkness took over completely.  
\---------  
Just darkness, and more darkness.  
Feeling disappearing from his body.  
Emptiness.  
\----------  
It felt like a rock landed on his chest, making it hard to breathe.  
"Kh---hh!"  
Nicky coughs weakly against the force of air being slammed from his chest and screams as a sharp shoot of pain reconnected his arm  
"AAAAAAaaahhh!!"  
Screaming and jerking himself awake only to see Mr Peterson there prying the bloody teeth of the mechanical shark off his wrist.  
A sight that makes him scream louder in unmeasured terror and pain.  
"Hh---!"  
He was going to again as hands fall on his shoulders before realising it was Aaron trying to keep him still.  
-He could've went looking for the keys himself, but he'd heard Nicky screaming so much he'd come--  
"My Arm-"  
He sobs between gasps of hysterics, unable to feel anything after the piercing metal snaps out.  
"My Arm--!"  
Aaron squeezes his eyes and Nicky's shoulders tightly hearing the panic in his voice.  
Straightening back from him, Mr Peterson gets up and runs down the hall, making Nicky sob harder, blood running from his lower arm coating the floor around it.  
("I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. This is how I'm dying. Like this oh god not like this----")  
"Nicky.."  
Mr Petersons thundering footsteps return with a thud and sheet of cloth as he frantically wraps it around Nicky's wrist and hand tightly to his twitching legs protest.  
(How is THAT going to fix it??)  
He needed a hospital if anything, but knew that wasn't in the options.  
He knew instead he was gonna die of bleeding.  
Between that and his pouring emotions he couldn't win the fight with consciousness.  
He heard Aaron crying against his shoulder and squeezing him, but couldn't move, not one thing.  
Not his eyes, or his mouth to even say sorry.  
For disappointing him so badly, and for making things worse.  
Much worse..

\-------  
\-------  
\-------  
(I'm in the dark and it's cold. I don't even know if I'm dreaming or not. I've been in that basement so long that… This could be there…)  
"Hello?"  
Calling to the silence, Nicky's voice echoes,  
"HELLOOO? Aaron? …..Mr Peterson..?"  
(I can't see ANYTHING..)  
Getting up slowly from the ground, Nicky flinches. Dots of fire circling him, like he blinked and suddenly they were there. His heart beats faster.  
"Whuh-- uh--"  
Turning around he could make out vague shapes in the black further away. Walls, Boards. Sealing him inside a big dark room, with lines of dotted fire.  
"What is going o-"  
*Hhsshhuhprprrpritaprhhihhi-hh*  
Freezing completely, his body erupts in chills,  
(What was that.)  
Eyes wide open.  
(That voice.)  
Harsh, quick whispering, murmuring around him.  
Flipping his gaze through the emptiness,searching for a source, it comes again,  
He can find none.  
*Muuhhaiyawawalluwaiyahadowaiya*  
Shaking, Nicky falls back to the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs and hiding his head as if could shield him from the voices hissing to him.  
Incomprehensible and eerie.  
Maybe this is what it was like when you die.  
You go through this.  
These are the voices of the spirits judging you in the after-world.  
Or aliens.


	10. 10(?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can't possibly get any worse..  
But how...?  
(Author note: A few things I wasn't certain on here- So I apologize for slowed updates)

"......"  
Maritza stares dead eyed at the wall, it'd been uncountably long since he'd moved her to her new room in the basement, and since then her treatment had only declined steadily and severely.  
("I'm just waiting out death at this point. Aren't I?")  
It's the truth, isn't it?  
Starving, with no hope of escape, her motivations kept dropping, rabid thoughts growing.  
She barely looks up as the door clicks.  
("Wow. He remembered I exist.")  
As he opens the door and steps in, she sees it's actually scraps of food he'd brought. Probably out of date too.  
At first, she holds back, but then she has to ask.  
"What did you do to Nicky?"  
"......"  
"I heard him screaming."  
Maritza looks at him straight, "Did you kill him?"  
"......"  
His blank faced stare meets hers like a stone. Bringing her to get up angrily,  
"DID YOU?!"  
"....."  
Mr Peterson turns without answer and she lunges to grab his arm and make him face her. Maritzas face a piercing glower of hate as she barely growls, "I hope you burn in hell."  
"...You little Witch…"  
"Should I be flattered?"  
She wonders sharply of his response, staring into his cold green eyes "Look who's calling Who a 'witch'."  
"Nrhh…."

\----------

Isolated in his empty room. The only thing Nicky had left was memories. Often in the form of horror scenes and nightmares. From the weeks, and months he'd spent in the Peterson's basement.  
Nightmares of what he may have done to his friends up above, and what his parents had done in his absence. Had they not cared at all? How would they not see what's going on across the street from them?  
"Aaron…"  
He couldn't even see him anymore.  
They were truly, alone.  
As Mr Peterson descended further into insanity. Leaving words, time, and reason far behind.  
("Keep. Nicky. Protect.")  
The last and only things he'd heard him whisper to himself, in a long time.

\---------------  
Memories. The only thing he had left.  
\---------------  
( Splitting up, They run. Hide and run.  
Eyes darting around the room wildly as Mr Petersons attention was diverted away from him, Nicky grabs for the phone he spotted,  
("Phone the police--")  
Reaching for the first dial, his hand pauses, hearing only the faintest crack.  
The line's dead.  
Of course. He broke the phone.  
It's useless.  
Throwing the receiver down, Nicky flings into the nearest wardrobe hearing the approaching footsteps as Mr Peterson ran through the doors.  
Aaron must've lost him for now.  
Hearing him toppling through the other room growling.  
("Maybe…")  
Nicky pushes open the wardrobe, sneaking out quickly for the door, a sharp intake of breath behind him shoots his spine into his throat.  
Throwing his arms at the door and legs into a run down the hall as Mr Peterson came chasing after him, rounding the stairs, and skimming the corner, "hhk-!"  
The hand grabbed his shirt, pulling him backwards on the steps in a yelp, as the other hand tightens on his arm as well, pulling him off his swishing feet with a growl.  
"Caught."  
Mr Peterson remarks like it were some kind of game. Swinging him around and carrying him through the air.

\---------  
"....." Holding his knees, Nicky's wrapped wrist begins to sting of the wound, unfolding it from place as he sat on the single mattress. "Hhh…"  
Staring at the tiles, he turns his head, hearing the click of the door. Returning his gaze to the floor when he glimpsed the striped orange legs.  
Mr Peterson steps in on unsteady feet. Stumbling and shutting the door behind him.  
At this point, Nicky wasn't so much scared as he was, bracing for what was to come.  
"Hh."  
Not looking up as Mr Peterson pulls himself forwards and into a few steps closer.  
Since putting him in this room, he didn't speak anymore. Not to him. At least. His mind just seemed to degrade further.  
"...." Squeezing his legs harder, Nicky's shoulder raises distrustfully, turning his head the other way, as Mr Petersons hands touch over him and he drops to his knees, only slightly, Nicky is relieved, When he just moves his left arm out of the way and takes the other.  
"Agh.."  
Wincing as pain still shoots through his hand and wrist, but otherwise saying nothing, as Mr Peterson pulls and unwraps the cloth to put another one on around it.  
To be honest. Nicky was surprised the wound hadn't killed him. He'd lost what seemed like alot of blood because of it.  
"Mh…"  
Squeezing an eye as he tugs the cloth and let's go.  
"Hh….hhh-hh…"  
Hearing him still breathing loudly on his left, Nicky tentatively glances at him, only to find him still staring back with an unfocused gaze that had only gotten more frequent with recent time.  
"......"  
Momentarily Nicky debates it, if he could rush past him, through the door. But just what would he do then?  
(I don't even know what part of the basement I'm in.)  
And his arm was still messed up, how far could he really get?  
"Hh-"  
As if suddenly remembering the other things he'd brought with him, Mr Peterson pulls the tray over, to Nicky's uncertainty, lifting the lid.  
There was nothing on the plate.  
Looking between it and Mr Peterson, who still seems to expect him to take it, Nicky holds back his tongues temptation to say something.  
("There's nothing on it..")  
He's absolutely lost it.  
"Uhh…"  
"..."  
Somehow his stare widens even more, but it doesn't feel like his green eyes actually look at Nicky, more like through him.  
Frozen between 'don't bother' and 'he'll hit me if I don't', Nicky takes the plate, trying not to shake too much, or deviate too long from the unblinking gaze. ("Wh--wha..") It's so bizarre.  
Tentatively picking up the spoon, Nicky swallows his unease and pretends to take a scoop out of food. Feeling his hand tremble as he brings it to his mouth empty.  
(No way this would last.  
We're gonna die for real at this rate.)  
Yet he could do nothing but appease his delusions. For fear of what might happen if he didn't.  
(We're all gonna be insane--) Could there be any other explanation? A, logical reason? For this, worsening? Could he be drunk? Would that explain it? He looked like he could be, but he didn't smell it.  
Putting the plate down after he'd finished (with the nothing),  
Mr Peterson nods his head slightly, taking the tray, cloth, and getting up.  
"Mhh…"  
Leaving without a last glance.  
Nicky watches him go, hoping somewhere he'd forget to lock it behind him, with everything else he was losing, but unfortunately the lock clicks.

\-------  
There was no point in crying, even though his chest swelled with thoughts of what was to come, now that they were here, and there was no getting better.  
\-------  
He might not have liked how things were before, but this was just… Unspeakable. It'd changed, especially since their botched last escape prep/attempt, and his getting hurt.  
\-------  
("Keep.. Nicky.. Protect..")  
He'd breathed.  
The last thing he'd heard.  
From the whispers.  
The dark…  
\-------

Nicky remembers being pulled along on his feet in a different darkness. Before things got this maddeningly isolating. His eyes wrapped with cloth. Terrified he was going to step into death or be thrown into some untrustable machine. He wanted to run, but Mr Peterson would pull his shoulder out if he tried it.  
"Uh...Huh.."  
Walking up a steepening incline of circling boards and platforms, Nicky's stomach felt sick from bracing for what might be to come or where he was leading him. "Ah-" The flat planes turn to stairs, making him nearly trip.  
A big gap seeming to be where another step would be logically.  
"Rrh.."  
Mr Peterson growls as Nicky hesitantly tries to make sense of the stairs placement blindfolded, before pulling him forwards. nickys feet haphazardly hitting and slipping on the unevenly placed boards.  
Finally the ascent seems to be over, and Mr Peterson opens a door, leading him inside and closing it. Nicky new screams hearing the crackle of fire. Convinced he was about to be roasted in it, as Mr Peterson jerks him forward, closer.   
"Please No, No, No Please--"  
(Have a shred of mercy--)  
"Mmm…."  
Pushing his shoulder to turn him slightly, Nicky's stiff to stop his body from objecting to the hand trying to move him.  
"Hmmh...Sit. Sit."  
"Huh..?"  
Bewildered and wary, Nicky puts a hand behind him, feeling for some sort of assurance before nervously sitting down on the surprisingly comfy chair. Swallowing as he puts his hands on the arm rests slowly, feeling the fabric, with no other sense to see with.  
"Hhh--" Shivering despite the near fire, as he still didn't know why Mr Peterson had elected to take him out alone on this particular 'outing'.  
"..Can. Can I take off the blindfold now?"  
(Please)  
At least if he knew where he was he wouldn't be scared of the unknown.  
"Mmh…"  
"...." Since he didn't hear a no, Nicky brought his hands up to his head, pulling the cloth down enough to see the fireplace in front of him, and Mr Peterson sitting down in the other armchair beside him. His nerves still froze at the sight, unexpected as it was.  
"..Uhm.."  
Though he seems chill, Nicky doesn't look away from him. It didn't matter how 'gentle' or 'normal' Mr Peterson tried(?) To seem, he wasn't going to be comfortable. This wasn't 'normal'. If things were 'normal', he wouldn't be here.  
"Hh…"  
"I though we would have a little talk, Nicholas."  
"T-Talk? About…?"  
("Leaving? I'd love to talk about leaving, you're letting Aaron and me go finally--")  
That'd be amazing. But no.  
"How are you?"  
"......"  
Nickys throat catches. He wanted to scream 'HOW DO YOU THINK' and all else, but that would be bad. Really bad, to start off with. Forcing himself to lie and give a  
"G--Good."  
"Mmm…"  
\-----------  
Somewhere he wonders if Mr Peterson knew he was lying. As he answered these questions, if it were all just a game. Or some sort of test. To probe him for outbursting. Maybe it was in spite of that, Nicky refused to let him win.  
(He might hurt my arms and legs. Pull me, push me, throw me and--- But he won't see me breakdown and cry over a conversation.)  
He needed at least one thing to hold over him, if only for his own consolidation.  
\-----  
Turning his head up Mr Peterson genuinely seems calm for once. Resting his arms without stiffening,  
"I thought about taking you boys for a trip."  
He admits, to Nicky's great skepticism, as he continues;  
"To get away for a bit. A nice……"  
His words pause, glancing to the ceiling, and to Nicky, before returning to focus.  
"If you weren't so Bad. I could trust you."  
"......."  
Hmm.  
("So he thinks we're 'bad', is that it? Is that the logic he uses to do this stuff? We're 'bad kids' when we try and escape?")  
Probably.  
"Oh wouldn't that be fun-?"  
Mr Peterson quips, tilting his head,  
"Middle of nowhere. Digging holes…."  
He turns his eyes on Nicky,  
"To fill each other in."  
"What-?"  
He can barely cough over a whisper as the green eyes stare right into his, a smirk spreads on Mr Petersons face as the statement lingers in the air, and he looks away chuckling dryly.  
"Haha...Yes. Yes… That sounds fun.."  
"What?"  
Nicky asks louder, increasingly concerned about the whereabouts of his neighbour/captors mind right now.  
(Digging holes? In the middle of nowhere? To 'Fill each other in'??)  
That didn't sound very 'fun' at all.  
But Mr Peterson wasn't paying him any mind. His voice chilling, far off and barely a whisper.  
"Hhurh….mmm...rr….Prying...Curious wittle eyes of their pockets…"  
"......."  
"..."  
Nickys gaze falls to Mr Petersons gloved hands, curling with delightful relish of the thoughts, over the chair arm.  
Making him want to fling off his own seat.  
"D...d-d--"  
"..hahh…."  
Turning his head back to Nicky as if remembering he existed, he stares with a darkly pleasant expression.  
"Do you think so?"  
"Uh--I...I...uh…"  
"Hmh?"  
His brain kicks him to come up with something that won't get him skinned, quickly.  
"Ha--Have you ever done it?"  
He screams internally realising what he just said/asked. As Mr Peterson tilts his head musingly,  
"Hmm…..Hmm….Hmm…"  
As if deciding whether Nicky had a genuine turn of curiousity or the subject was a bit strange after all to be talking about with him. He takes a breath, as if about to explain all the factual pieces of how to dig holes or pry someones eyes out, before pausing himself, a mischievous smile growing on his face.  
"Sneaky, sneaky, Nickoleaky."  
"...."  
"Hmhmmmh…"  
He gets up, Making Nicky shrink back, as Mr Petersons ominous eyes study him curiously, pulling his hands behind his back as he steps slowly around the seat. Purring under his breath as he circles him. Nicky braces for sudden action, a snap that would make him otherwise scream.  
"Something something something…"  
"Huh…?"  
Turning his head around as Mr Petersons voice is barely audible, as he paces.  
"I wonder if it's nothing…"  
"...."  
"Or perhaps sweet child is bluffing… Wanting to keep things passing… Or surely some things fascining…."  
"Uh--uhh-"  
Nicky flinches as Mr Peterson swings out his arms, suddenly pausing his pace of the room.  
He gives another smile, squinting his eyes closed.  
"You like tea?"  
"Uhd--N-No… I, Never really…"  
("What?")  
"Hmh."  
Curious answer. Mr Peterson chuckles at Nicky's confusion, picking up the red and white spotted kettle, he pours the hot liquid in two yellow cups.  
Making Nicky's brows furrow as he sees him drop something into the left. Trying not to look overly suspicious as he sets them down on the table between the seats, he asks,  
"-what's in it?"  
Mr Peterson raises an eyebrow.  
So Nicky reiterates, "In the tea?"  
"Mint."  
"....."  
As if to assuage his wonder, he pulls out a droplet from his pants pocket, showing it to him.  
"Hmm…."  
Still not very convinced of that, he didn't question it further.  
As Mr Peterson sits back down, daintily dropping it in his own cup. It could be plausible. Given how often he smelt of mint. But Nicky wasn't in any position to trust him after all the talk of burying people and prying out eyes.  
He wasn't about to just forget that because he paced around murmuring nonsense.  
Looking warily between Mr Peterson as he continued on to some new topic, and the steam from the cup on the table. He barely pays attention to what he was saying. More crazy or incomprehensible jargon by most likely guess.  
Until he hears a clear grunt, drawing his attention back carefully.  
",S-sorry...What did you say?"  
"Hmh." He wasn't impressed by his lack of focus, that was for sure. "Noone did teach you such things."  
"...I…. Don't, think so..?"  
("Shoot what did I miss-?")  
Nicky had doubted it would be important after sitting through his other self-absorbed ramblings. But now he worries it was something integral, as his agreement to the statement seems to make Mr Peterson curious.  
"..Hmmm….Wandering wistfully. Risky. Risky…"  
"...."  
'yet you do it all the time.'  
His eyes said, without the need for words. Nicky knew what he meant, but not wanting to stay silent, agrees again.  
"I know."  
"Mmmm….."  
Someway out of this. He wanted. Desperately. Out of this interested stare Mr Peterson levels at him, with no idea of the context. So desperate for a breaker he almost considers picking up the cup. Glancing around the surprisingly nice flower wallpapered room for the first time, he flinches a bit, glimpsing something he hadn't noticed before. On the floor. Jumping up on his seat as he realises it was a bear, a literal bear turned rug.  
"Nh?"  
Mr Peterson grunts at him, confused as to why he was suddenly cowering with his feet on the chair. Before seeing where his eyes were.  
"Haha..She won't bite."  
He assures, probably regretting he hadn't rigged one to move and roar now that he'd seen Nicky's reaction to a limp one.  
"You--Caught it?"  
He could only assume, glancing between Mr Peterson and the stretched out Bear.  
"Guess you wouldn't know a hunting." Nicky realises he may have just found his way out of whatever topic he'd missed.  
Weird to play into his kidnappers interest, but if it kept him safe(r), he was going for it. Looking at Mr Peterson he asks,  
"No. How do you catch a bear?"  
"....You wanna know?"  
"Yeah, they're so big.."  
He seems to consider answering for a moment, if there were any reasons to, decline. But didn't see them.  
"Mmhh…. You have right location, right position, right bait, right preparation, it's not so big."  
Though it felt somewhat morbid, Given he was being held here by this man claiming bears were not so difficult to hunt, Nicky questions him more. It seemed like something Mr Peterson wouldn't mind talking about. And he was hoping between all this information about location, tracking, smells, appropriate bait and process, that he'd forget about whatever it was he'd been thinking earlier, that had seemed so ominous.  
Nicky hadn't expected to actually get interested enough to try and make sense of all Mr Petersons words. (As some of them were… more incomprehensible, than others.)  
The way his eyes and face widened as he explains the minute processes of cutting and skinning the bears hide made Nicky kindof nauseous though. His brain starting to form the mental image of Mr Peterson with that insane look on his face, brandishing a knife and practically drooling as he cut the hide off of the face and from its dead body.  
"Brrh…"  
Nicky shivers at the sight. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to picture.  
"To keep it. You'll need about 1 stone and 6 pounds of salt. Then. A sack, to hang for, five, days."  
"...."  
Wearily, Nicky nods. Absentmindedly picking up the cup of tea from the table, to take a drink, as the topic shifted from hide getting and packing to sewing.  
"All very….Tumptious."  
Mr Peterson remarks, To Nicky's uncertainty if he meant tedious, or that was a different word.  
"It...Sounds it."  
He just agrees, regardless.  
"Hmm…"  
Glancing around the room as if just now reentering it, Mr Peterson tilts his head, before looking back at Nicky.  
"Hmm."  
Though he doesn't seem annoyed, he makes a sound as if amazed he was still there.  
It doesn't immediately register why, he might be looking at him like that, until with shock Nicky remembers the thing he'd seen him put into the cup he'd been drinking from.  
"Hh-" Too quickly he throws the cup down, sending it to the floor. Cringing both in fear of what he drank and of being in trouble for throwing the cup. Nicky puts his arms up defensively  
"I'm, sorry- I'm sorry I---"  
"Mnh…"  
Mr Peterson looks from the spilled cup to Nicky's cowering posture, murmuring a growl,  
"Always somethin. Unh?"  
Nicky doesn't meet his eyes, as he hears him getting up with a ragged sigh.  
Tightening his arms around his legs, as he steps over and grabs his wrist.  
"I might dismiss it, nn, You're good."  
"Wh-wha-?"  
\---------------

Shaking his head, he didn't want to remember anymore. No more, no more.  
No more confusion, no more twisting..  
Nicky gets up from the single mattress, shaking his arm in the empty room. Shivering as he still felt the touch. He shook again, pacing the small tiled floor, with its blue walls, and fake light windows.  
"Rrh--"  
Trying to just throw it off.  
Everything, as a memory.  
(Remember. Think of it like a bad dream. A nightmare, that didn't happen.)  
Physical concious was a stubborn thing.  
("Nightmare. Nightmare.")  
That never ended.  
It was the only way to deal with it. Taking a deep breath and exhaling. Still pacing.  
("Nightmare. Nightmare.")  
Now it was silence he had to contend with.  
Nothing but,  
Silence, and a deepening sense of madness.  
Wondering when it'll end.

\--------------

He didn't know if Aaron was even still alive.  
With how Mr Peterson had become…  
If he was, the room was too far to hear.  
And if he was. Was he in the same boat?  
("What happened after I passed out..?")  
He 'd woken up here.  
Maybe…  
…….Maybe it was so quiet because Aaron was dead.  
The image of Mr Petersons empty, insane expression haunts his mind. He might have…  
("No…")  
Nicky shakes his head, ("No he wouldn't… He.. Cared about him, didn't he?")  
(I can't think like that.. I can't-)  
…...But the thought wouldn't leave.  
The silence.  
The isolation.  
The descent into deeper detached madness..  
\------  
Nicky could picture it.  
As Mr Peterson carried him off unconscious, Aaron screaming and protesting,  
"Nicky! Put Him Down!"  
"Hnh!"  
Swinging a hand back Mr Peterson smacks him in the face, continuing down the hallway to the basement depths. Throwing him into the dark.  
(And after I was gone….)  
"What did you do to him!?"  
Aaron screams, pressuring about what happened  
(Thinking I was dead…)  
Grabbing his dad's shirt and waist roughly, Aaron insisted on an answer, anything, whether it be an admission or not.  
"Aaaaaagh!"  
"Rrh!"  
Striking Aaron with a hard hit, Mr Peterson snaps, grabbing his demanding hands off him and throwing him to the floor, pressing his gloved hand into Aarons throat and holding down one of his rashly flinging limbs beneath him.  
Thrashing his head into the floor, grip so tight he could barely scream, and then not at all.  
As his resistance fell limp, slow realisation came.  
"Aaron?"  
(Maybe he'd feel guilty. Maybe he'd feel broken.)  
Shaking his dead eyed body.  
"Aaron--?"  
(Surely that's something that would've driven the last of Mr Peterson sanity away..)

\------

It was so easy for Nicky to picture, he was scared it might be real.  
His mind tries to argue it wouldn't be, it couldn't be. But it knew at the same time, what he could do. Intentional or not. He couldn't rule out him killing Aaron by accident. By the ways he would so suddenly strike…  
"Mngh…"  
Squeezing his eyes shut so tight they burn, Nicky shakes his head.  
"No. NO…"  
("I can't think that… I can't.")  
As his throat fills with a sob, he chokes it away hearing the locks click.  
This time he doesn't even look at the door.  
He knew who it was.  
It could only be one 'person'.  
Shutting the door, Approaching him, putting down a set of supplies, and kneeling to him.  
Nicky sniffs, not looking up as Mr Peterson takes his right arm wordlessly. Unwrapping it and checking the wounds, before putting a newcloth over it, rewrapping and pulling it.  
Nicky let's his arm fall back limp.  
"Mm...mh?"  
By now he could assume the grunt was in question of why he was 'being like this'. As if the answer wasn't so obvious.  
"Hnnh…"  
When Nicky doesn't lift his head, or move, he heard the slight frustration creep back into Mr Petersons voice. Putting a hand on his knee and shaking his thin legs.  
Refusing to look at him. To see that distant, mad, unfocused gaze staring at him. Nicky felt sick just Imagining the sight of his face.  
His gloved hands…  
Shaking his head slightly.  
(Just leave me alone…)  
"...mmh…."  
The murmur seems more pensive somehow. Almost reserved. As if Mr Peterson Were straightening back, giving him some space.  
"....."  
When he doesn't leave. Nicky couldn't help but wonder why.  
(What is he doing? Waiting for me? Why? What does he WANT even--)  
Not looking up, Nicky glances through his arms to the side,and the plate, he doubted there was anything. Like last time.  
And he wasn't in the mood to pretend for his illusions there was food to eat that would soothe his aching stomach.  
"........"  
As Mr Peterson finally gives up on him and his unresponsiveness. Nicky got his courage, in a sudden shot of realisation. This may be his last chance. "Wait.."  
Slowly raising his head after he'd already gotten up.  
Aaron's words repeat in mind  
(He won't hear it if you do. Behind him.)  
Pulling himself to his feet Nicky grabs for Mr Petersons arm, making him stop at the door, and turn around, "Mh?"  
"What you've done. Is this what they'd want?"  
Fully, to Nicky's serious gaze- trying to steady his trembling body.  
Mr Peterson stares at him without answer, so he demands again, louder.  
"If They were Here, do you think they'd approve of this??"  
Defensively he shifts his posture at the boys stern look and mouth.  
"Mmrrm…"  
"Your Wife. You wouldn't want her to see this?"  
Nicky couldn't believe….  
-(("He's getting worse.."))-  
"Mya would be broken if she did."  
Her voice, confiding in him long ago, about her concern.. He couldn't imagine how much it'd hurt her to see how Much Worse he'd gotten since then. What he'd done to them.  
He sees shock seeping into Mr Petersons widening eyes, something akin to fear.  
So he presses further, desperately.  
"You Gotta Stop this."  
"Hhh…hh…."  
For the first time, Mr Peterson backs away from Him, yanking his arm out of Nicky's grip, panic setting in.  
"Your Wife, Mr Peterson-! MYA. Think about Them!"  
"Mmrh…"  
Shaking his gaze away from the admonishing gaze, his hands curled, breathing faster and heavier.  
"Nnrh...hh..hh…."  
Nicky had braced for him to tell him to be quiet. To smack him. But it never came. No words but twisted strains of frustration.  
He knew somewhere, he was right.  
In that bog of his brain.  
He fights if though. His body shifts and turns, bringing his hands towards his face, Nicky grabs for his wrist.  
He'd expected the jerking repulsion, but not the strangled squeak that escapes Mr Petersons throat.  
Making Nicky flinch before his grip was swung off, stumbling backwards.  
Mr Peterson threw open the door, slamming it behind his back before Nicky could stop him.  
A wounded high moan- barely a scream, from the other side, makes him freeze up. Completely still. Staring at the shut door.  
("...He's...Crying?")  
It's all Nicky could make out of the bizarre weeping gasps coming from behind it.  
Lowering his eyes to the floor as the sound fills his chest with weight.  
Of anything he'd expected Mr Peterson might do, this wasn't it.  
Monsters we're'nt able to cry like this.  
That's a human trait.  
"Urhh...hh--hhh..huh..hk...hh-hhh.."  
"Mr…"  
Nicky puts a hand on the door lightly, curling his fingers over the wood.  
Despite everything, the wound he'd opened sent metaphorical blades to his own heart.  
"....."  
He hears him stumble back against the door, unable to put a stop to the bleating cries.  
Unbearable to Nicky's ears, it seeps like an infection, making him want to cover them.  
He hadn't fixed him with his words.  
He'd broken him even thinner.  
"......."  
Staring at the floor, Nicky slowly shook his head, more and more.  
"Mr Peterson--"  
He put himself to the door, knocking on the wood, throat too tight to call him he knocks harder and harder until a cracked yell sliced the air.  
"Hhrhh--hh--"  
Roughly growling, shifting over the door, Nicky flung himself back from the loud bang that slammed the wood.  
"Rruh! Urrrha…."  
Scratching down the face of it.  
Nickys head shrinks towards his shoulders, warily realising he may well have just forced him into a full breakdown, violently twisted with agonising despair.  
As the disturbing noises leave the door and step away, Nicky carefully moves back closer, to try and peak through the keyhole. To the dark outside.  
Crippling between the two opposing emotional extremes, Mr Peterson swings his arms around, staggering and moaning horribly, his throat hiccups with lingering tears and whine. His spine practically limp.  
If was a nightmarish sight.  
Nicky could feel his heart beat in his throat. Trembling against the door.  
(What do you do?)  
Falling against the wall, Mr Peterson chest rose and fell quickly, grabbing his face in his hands.  
Nicky stops his palm over the door knob.  
Holding it in place, as he stares through the hole.  
It wasn't locked.  
He could get out.  
But to where… He didn't know.  
(He's ...Preoccupied…)  
("I could get a head start...If only…")  
(I knew where I was running.)  
To make a blind dash right in front of him, seems insane.  
(What if he catches me? Like THAT? what would--)  
-You can starve to death or otherwise die anyway-  
He flinches at the thought.  
Terror any side he looks at it.  
The question was basically,  
'how would you prefer to die?'  
With the tiniest possibility that one option MAY offer a chance to live and escape this horrorhouse.  
Take it? Or…. Take it.  
Turning the knob, Nicky takes a deep breath.  
Slowly? Creep? Fast? Where to?  
Run.  
Figure it out.  
Pushing through the door his body whirls on his legs, frantically looking around in the dark outside his room to crushing panic.  
(What the-)  
No way out.  
(How? How is that--)  
Fences to the right, walls and dead end ahead. Before he could even think about trying to run down the left back hall and trying to force himself through the mess blocking it, he hears Mr Peterson groan, and could only guess he'd been noticed.  
Standing out here, flipping his head around in disbelief there was really no place to run to, he quickly turns back to face Mr Peterson.  
Seeing his face and ragged posture, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could say.  
Trapped between a mentally unstable creature and a hall blockade, Nicky flinches back and forth  
"Uh--ah--uh--"  
As Mr Peterson takes a step towards him, Nicky twists himself around and bolts for the pile of knocked over and hoarded mess. Hearing the steps follow, Trying to climb and force himself through the narrow gaps desperately, shrieking as the clasp of rubber on his bare leg snaps on, trying to pull him back, Nicky grasps whatever he could get, another hand grabbing the back of his shirt end, forcing his fingers to let go, and dragging him out of the tight hole sputtering with disbelief and fear.  
As Mr Petersons arm wraps around his shoulders, a slip of an inch from his neck, Nicky stills like stone. Knowing there was nothing he could even do. Nowhere to go.  
Trembling, for the knowledge of what would come.  
(Maybe it'll be quick. Maybe he'll snap my neck with one--) fast blow.  
(Maybe it won't hurt. But it's going to--)  
As the noose closes nearer, and his hand touches his face, Nicky shut his eyes, biting his teeth together.  
"Hhh-"  
Flinching at his breath, his eyes shot back open as the pull came, knocking him off his feet and into Mr Peterson on the ground.  
(This isn't quick.)  
Panic flung back In as his arms entrapped him to his body, and he could feel his breath on the back of his hair, locking him against his hot heavily rising and falling chest.  
Nicky shakily turns his head slowly when the pressure doesn't strangle him and stays at rest.  
He couldn't see Mr Petersons face very well, but it couldn't be anger inhabiting it.  
(Or I'd be dead.)  
He was just.. Tired. So tired. And sad.  
Nicky turns his gaze back to the dirt ground. His adrenaline draining from his body.  
He doesn't dare speak or move otherwise.  
No matter how long he'll have to wait.  
(For what even?)  
At this point, he didn't know.  
He'd thought for sure he was gonna die, not get turned into a comfort doll for Mr Peterson.  
It was anything goes as to what he'll do if/when he feels. Better(?) Or snaps out of whatever deep hole he was in.  
With how he's already been the past… week? More? Nicky couldn't even guess how long that'd be. Let alone what he was gonna do.  
("Drag me back in the room? …… If he was gonna kill me he would've done it already. So ..")  
(Probably..)  
("If only there was some way to convince him….")


End file.
